Universal
by Suki59
Summary: A human Sookie and Eric have a memorable experience at a famous amusement park in Los Angeles. What will it lead to? Written for week 11 of 2011 for the Weekly One-Shot Challenge and as a promo fic for The Home Sweet Home Contest. AH. Now multi-chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The Weekly One-Shot Challenge for week 11 of 2011 inspired this story. The challenge was: "Remember-your body is not only a temple. It`s also an amusement park." I realize, of course, that I'm not exactly meeting the challenge correctly, but the amusement park part inspired me. I also decided to put the story in my current home of Los Angeles and post it as a promo fic for the contest I'm hosting with Thyra10, The Home Sweet Home Contest. I just beta'd a promo fic from her as well from the same challenge that I know you'll enjoy called Your Body is an Amusement Park Too. She was kind enough to return the favor and beta this story for me—thank you, Thyra! After you read our promo fics, I hope you'll write us a story from your own hometown and enter it in the contest. Go here to do that (remove spaces around dots): www . fanfiction u/2623209/HomeSweetHome (or just do an author search for HomeSweetHome).**

**I don't own these characters.**

It was a hot Saturday afternoon in Los Angeles. I knew a sunny Memorial Day weekend would likely break attendance records at a place like Universal Studios and I was right. But I didn't let that stop me when Pam invited me to come to the opening day of her new show.

There was a big push to advertise the opening of the Spiderman show at Universal. I'd seen it on TV and heard the radio ads and, of course, wondered if Eric would have anything to do with the show. That's what he did for a living—directed live shows at theme parks, and this was a big one.

I knew Pam was in it, but I was careful to never ask about Eric when we spoke. I wasn't sure how much she knew and hoped it was nothing.

But of course what had happened between me and Eric was far from nothing.

I got in the line out front that said "Will Call" and was relieved I wouldn't have to wait in the long lines with everyone else. When my turn came, I gave my name and a free ticket was placed in the little metal tray before me. I took it and found the line to enter the park.

It took me a long time to find the theater. Just finding the directory map was difficult. I had to fight the sea of people coming and going, desperate for fun in the almost-summer heat of midday.

When I found the Spiderman show, I bypassed the line and found an usher at the front of the theater.

"Hi, I'm Sookie Stackhouse. I'm a guest of Pam Ravenscroft's," I said.

The usher nodded and disappeared through a door without a word. When he returned, he opened the door with a smile and led me inside. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dark, but I followed the usher to the front of the empty theater where he sat me in the center of the second row. I was relieved to find the theater cool after being in the stifling sun outside.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

"Great, thanks." It was the best seat in the house, actually.

"I think we're breaking a record today," he continued.

"Yeah, I know. You mean with the number of people here at the park?"

"Well, yeah, that. But also I meant with the temperature."

"Oh, right. Yeah, it's hot alright."

The usher left me alone, and I sat and retrieved my phone from my pocket to turn it to vibrate, wishing I had something else to occupy my hands. I wondered if Eric was watching me from backstage. Was he even here? The thought of seeing him again made my stomach do a little flip flop.

I hadn't seen Eric since October—since working with him at Knott's Scary Farm. Every October, Knott's Berry Farm, the theme park in Buena Park, just past the L.A./Orange County line, transformed their venue into a spooky Halloween Fair. It was the premier haunted Halloween festival in the country and had been for decades.

I was bored with my job waitressing for Sam in West Hollywood and wanted to get into doing wardrobe for movies or TV or theater. I wasn't sure how exactly to go about doing that, but when a customer told me Knott's was looking for a wardrobe assistant for the month of October, I immediately contacted them and applied for the job. My customer was an executive at Knott's, and apparently, put in a good word for me because I was hired right away.

Sam said he could cut my hours back for the month. He was a big fan of Knott's Scary Farm, as were many people in L.A. and I promised I'd get him a ticket to the park if I could.

Working at Knott's turned out to be one of best experiences of my life. I was always exhausted from the long, late hours, but working backstage at the live show was so exciting for me. We did four shows a night in the huge theater that was filled to its 5000-seat capacity every single show.

Our Vegas-style show had a live band onstage that played for the dozen singers and dancers who performed tirelessly night after night. They did their own "spooky" versions of popular songs dressed as zombies and vampires and assorted monsters.

My job wasn't very glamorous—mostly helping the performers make quick changes backstage during the show, and then doing lots of laundry every night after the final show. When the cast came to work every evening, their costumes were clean and dry, waiting for them in their dressing rooms.

The costume designer, Sophie-Anne, seemed pleased with my work, and her assistant, Andre, taught me the ropes and made sure I did the most menial tasks so he wouldn't have to.

I didn't mind. I was having such fun being a part of the show and quickly grew to love the cast and crew. Pam and I were instant best friends. She was one of the "singers who could move," as opposed to a dancer who could sing. Every cast member was amazingly talented in both departments.

Of course, I noticed Eric the first time I saw him a few days before opening night. As Andre was showing me the backstage area, I looked out to the empty house and saw a lone blond head sitting and watching the singers and dancers as they rehearsed. Even from a distance, I could see his intensely blue eyes and felt an instant attraction.

"That's Eric Northman, the director," Andre stated flatly, and then continued his tour.

Later, I passed Eric in the hallway backstage and tried not to stare at his tall, impressive body. He had on black jeans and boots and a simple black shirt, but he was so stunningly handsome, he seemed to fill the entire hallway with his presence. I glanced at his face as he got closer and smiled and said a quiet, "Hello," but he said nothing. The way he looked at me made the hair on my arms stand up and I felt that first little stomach flip that I grew to expect every time I saw him.

Eventually, he did speak to me, but wasn't overly friendly. I was about as low on the ladder of cast and crew as you could get, and he, as the director, was at the very top, so I didn't really expect him to pay much attention to me.

He wasn't there every night. He spent the first few nights there watching every show and giving notes to the cast between shows, but eventually, he wasn't needed as the shows became tighter and tighter with repetition.

I found myself trying to look as cute as I could just in case he'd be there and felt like I had a high school crush, feeling my face flush when he spoke to me or even looked my way.

One night in the middle of the run, I was standing backstage waiting for one of the dancers who had a quick change. I had his shirt and pants draped over my arm and was kind of swaying to the music that I knew so well after so many nights. I felt a pair of eyes on me and instinctively turned around, spotting the familiar head of blond hair and feeling the usual little stomach flip. I gave Eric a smile and turned back around to watch the dancers onstage again.

I sensed Eric coming up behind me and felt his warm breath by my ear as he murmured quietly, "You're Sookie."

I turned and nodded, our faces a little too close. He smelled so good—clean and fresh, unlike the dancers who sweated through four shows a night.

He bent to my ear again. "I'm Eric."

He pulled back a little and smiled at me. I just smiled back, knowing we couldn't really have any kind of normal conversation backstage during the show and also aware that in mere seconds, my dancer would arrive and my attention would have to be on him.

I turned to face the stage just as my guy raced to me and began to strip. I helped him shed his clothes and held his pants and shirt for him as he scrambled into them. He bent to fasten the Velcro on his shoes and I crouched with him, trying to button his shirt. He stood and zipped up his pants just as I finished the shirt and then he was off, running back onstage.

I scooped up his discarded shirt and pants and turned to head back to the wardrobe room. Eric was nowhere in sight.

Many nights, the cast and crew met up at a bar on the way to the freeway, and I was always invited. Unfortunately, my tasks were never finished before the bar's closing time of 2 a.m., and so I never got to go. I often wondered if Eric was there and what it would be like to socialize with him a little. I found myself fantasizing about Eric Northman quite a bit.

We always had Mondays and Tuesdays off, and on the Wednesday that began our final long weekend, Eric came in before the first show. I was mending a costume in the wardrobe room and was surprised to see him enter. It wasn't a room I'd ever seen him in. I was worried that something was wrong—that there was a problem with the costumes, and stood to greet him.

"Hi. Is everything okay?" I asked.

He seemed startled by my question, and shook his head a little as he said, "Yeah, everything's fine. How are you holding up?"

I was puzzled by the question. He had never addressed me in such a personal manner.

"Fine."

"So … " He looked around the room while I waited. "What did you do on your days off?"

Was he worried that I wasn't doing my job well enough? Did he expect me to work on my days off?

"Well, there really wasn't anything to do with the costumes." I held up the skirt I was mending. "This only tore tonight or I would have fixed it sooner."

He smiled. "No, I didn't mean to imply …." He took a deep breath. "I meant, what did you do? Are you married … or …. "

"No, I'm not married." Did he just ask me if I was single? "I … um …I worked at my other job. I'm a waitress at Merlotte's in West Hollywood."

"You worked on your days off?"

"Well, yeah. I need to keep my job. After next week, this will be over." Well, duh, Sookie. Of course, he knew that.

"Right. Merlotte's. I'll check it out."

"Oh, okay."

"So, you're single." It wasn't a question.

I felt my face getting hot. "Yeah."

He nodded and smiled a very small and very sexy smile before turning to walk away.

"I'll see you later," he called over his shoulder as he left the room.

I had to sit down as my knees were suddenly wobbly. Eric Northman had just flirted with me. My fingers shook as I continued my sewing. I replayed the brief conversation over in my mind. There was no mistaking it. He was flirting.

I didn't get to talk to him again, but felt his eyes on me while I waited backstage. Once, I looked at him and we seemed to play a game of chicken in the dark. I finally had to look away when Pam appeared, needing a fast change.

As I passed him with her discarded costume, he gave me one of his smoldering smiles and reached out to briefly squeeze my hand before I floated to the wardrobe room.

I didn't see him again until the final night of the month—Halloween night. There was a feeling in the air that this night was special. I detected alcohol on the breath of several of the dancers and band members even though drinking was forbidden. But I guess they figured they couldn't be fired at that point and were celebrating a little early.

I'd seen Eric enter the band's dressing room before the first show and felt a pang of jealousy, picturing them enjoying their last night and feeling like an outsider for the first time. I'd enjoyed being a part of the team and really, the cast and crew could not have made me feel more welcome. But on that final night, I felt sad. I knew that many of the dancers and singers would go on to their next shows and stay in touch with each other. And, I'd go back to my life.

I had learned that theirs was a very tight knit little group. I found myself wondering if Eric was dating any of the girls. They were all young and beautiful. I knew he wasn't seeing Pam because she preferred women, but did he like the others? Was I a fool to think he'd returned my feelings? After all, he was the director of the show and I was simply a costume assistant. And a waitress.

Just before the final show of the final night, I was resetting the costumes and decided I had time to make a quick dash to the ladies room. I passed the side-by-side men's and women's dressing rooms and heard Eric's voice talking and laughing with the cast.

I felt that new and yet familiar pang of jealousy and sadness as I entered the bathroom. I stopped before heading for a stall and caught my reflection in the mirror above one of the sinks. I looked sad and painted on a fake smile. It wasn't like me to feel sorry for myself, and I didn't like it.

At that moment, the door flew open and banged against the wall. It startled me and I turned to see Eric coming into the ladies room, his blue eyes burning into mine.

I started to speak—to tell him this was the ladies room, but as I opened my mouth, he took me into his arms and kissed me. For a brief second, I went limp in his arms as he pressed me back into the sink, his tongue roughly exploring my mouth.

Then, my body began to respond and my hands went into his hair, pulling him closer. I felt his hands underneath my butt, lifting me onto the sink and my legs instinctively spread as he pressed himself into me.

I moaned into his mouth and his kiss became more urgent and his hips began to move, rubbing himself against me. I wanted to say "yes," but couldn't speak. I began sucking on his tongue and one hand dropped to his perfectly glorious ass and gave it a squeeze.

I had never in my life had such a moment and lost myself in his kiss, in his body. I wanted him and thought of nothing else. I was out of my mind.

As suddenly as it had begun, Eric stopped the kiss and turned and left the room just as one of the women dancers was entering the bathroom. She didn't seem to flinch at the sight of a man leaving the ladies room and didn't even glance my way as she headed for one of the stalls.

I went into the one beside her, knowing I had no time to waste before the show started.

That final show was a blur. I was so discombobulated from humping the boss on the bathroom sink and all the dancers and singers kept hugging me and a few of them were crying between scenes. It was such an emotional night.

I promised Pam I'd try to come to the bar before closing, but I knew I wouldn't make it. I looked for Eric, but never saw him again. The wrap party was the following Saturday night and I pinned all my hopes on seeing him there as I said my final farewell to Knott's Scary Farm climbing into my car at 3 a.m. feeling exhausted, happy, and sad all at once.

I felt pathetic the following week at the wrap party, watching the door like a lovesick teenager. I danced with some of the dancers and laughed and tried to have fun, but I was sorely disappointed that Eric never came. I played that moment at the sink over and over in my mind, wondering what it meant to him, and finally, coming to the conclusion that it had probably meant nothing. Maybe he kissed all the girls on the final night of a run. Maybe I was just part of the celebration and nothing more.

It took me weeks to recover from the physical exhaustion of working those long, late hours and never having a night off—working for Sam when I wasn't at Knott's and never really being able to sleep well during the day. Plus, I had a raging crush on Eric and could see that more clearly as October got further and further into my past. He was my reason for fixing my hair just right every night and never feeling tired at work. I'd lived on the hope of seeing him at Knott's, and thinking I might never see him again was tough.

I wondered if he'd remember where I worked and hoped he'd come into Merlotte's one night, but he never did.

I stayed in touch with Pam and heard of the other singers and dancers through her. One had booked a show in New York. Another got a role on a soap opera. And then, several got the Spiderman show at Universal Studios. It was a good gig. It should have a much longer run than the show at Knott's, which meant regular money for the cast.

I was happy for Pam and even happier when she invited me to opening day.

I sat and waited while the usher brought in a dozen or so special guests and then the house began to fill. I checked my watch and remembered how it had felt the night before the first show at Knott's. I missed it and wondered how long I'd be satisfied with just waitressing again. I'd loved being part of the show, and of course, I missed how Eric Northman had made me feel.

The lights dimmed and the audience got quiet. The music came up and I watched my friends dance and sing the story of Peter Parker and how he became a superhero. Pam was wonderful, of course, and I felt so proud as she sang a solo, looking like a goddess.

Time flew by and before I knew it, the show was over and people began to stand and file out of the theater. I waited with the first two rows of guests until an usher came and got us and led us to a backstage door.

We followed a path that led us outside behind the theater. Pam was waiting for me, beaming and beautiful in her final costume. I hugged her and congratulated her as people all around us were doing the same. Some of the Knott's dancers came to me and we hugged and I told them how much I'd enjoyed the show. A few of them disappeared into a door that I assumed led to their dressing rooms. As I watched them leave, I heard my name and every hair on my body stood to attention. It was Eric.

I turned around and he was smiling at me. He stepped forward and took me in his arms. He held me for a beat longer than felt casual and whispered into my ear.

"I have to go backstage to give notes. Can you stay for the next show?"

I nodded into his hair, lost in the feel and smell of him. I never wanted to leave.

"What's your phone number?"

I wasn't expecting that question and pulled back to look up into his stunning blue eyes. He watched my lips as I said my number and then he gave me a last quick hug before leaving. He went through the backstage door and then Pam was suddenly beside me telling me she had to go.

I found the usher and asked if I could see the next show as well.

He said, "Of course," and led me back inside where a few of the guests had already been seated again. Apparently, I wasn't the only one to stay for a second show.

I hardly saw the show. My heart was pounding and I could still smell Eric on my clothes and in my hair. I relived the sink episode over and over while Pam and my friends sang and danced their hearts out.

When the lights came up, I went out back to find Eric. He was nowhere to be seen, but Pam came out again and as I was telling her again what a great job she'd done, my phone buzzed in my pocket, indicating a text message.

I pulled it out and saw: "Say goodbye and walk to your left between the buildings."

I looked around, but didn't see him. I hugged Pam and thanked her for inviting me. Then I turned to my left and began walking.

As I passed between the buildings, I came to a clearing and spotted Eric in the crowd. Because he was so tall, he was easy to find among the throngs of tourists. The heat knocked me down as I stepped away from the shade of the theater building. Or maybe it was just the sight of Eric smiling at me above the heads of the masses.

As our eyes met, he gave a little tilt of his head that meant "follow me," and so I did. I was several feet behind him as we made our way through the bodies. I had no idea where we were going, but I knew I'd follow him anywhere.

The crowd began to thin as we approached a huge building that seemed to be empty. There were no signs on it to indicate what it was, unlike all the other buildings in the park. And I could see stanchions ahead blocking people from entering a road beside the empty building. I watched Eric squeeze past the stanchions and he turned and took my hand as I reached him.

He pulled me from the crowd and down the empty street, walking briskly and looking around him.

"Security can see us," he said and grinned like a naughty school boy.

My heart raced. Would we get into trouble? And where were we going?

"This used to be the Terminator ride," he explained as we sped past the building. "It's nothing now."

We passed a row of empty golf carts on our left and Eric pulled me behind what looked like a bus stop. It was essentially two walls with posters on them. He pressed me into the corner that the walls formed and kissed me.

"They can't see us from here," he said as he roughly kissed his way across my jaw and down my neck. My knees buckled and he held me up.

"But our feet …," I began, realizing that the walls ended near our knees and surely the security cameras knew we were back there.

"We don't have much time," he mumbled into my neck and then his mouth was on mine again and I didn't want to waste any more time talking.

I closed my eyes and was lost in the urgent passion we felt. His tongue hungrily found mine and our bodies pressed together, hands searching and probing. We got turned around so his back was against the wall and I opened my hand in his hair at the back of his head and gripped him to me as we kissed.

I was out of my mind for a split second—just long enough to reach into his pants with my free hand and wrap my fingers around him. He gasped into my mouth and I felt a surge of power that I'd never felt before. I knew this was wrong, and I loved how wrong it was. I had spent my life trying to be good and to do the right thing, and in one lust-filled instant, all that flew out the window.

I had Eric in my hand, literally, and it felt good. He was mine.

I gave his tongue one last swipe with mine as I unfastened and unzipped his pants with the hand that had been in his hair. Without giving any thought to the consequences, I blindly broke the kiss and bent to put him in my mouth.

I had no idea what I was doing, but simply did what felt good. Eric seemed to agree with me judging by the sounds he was making. Within seconds, I felt him hitting the back of my throat and used my hands to pull him to me, deeper and deeper with each thrust. Somehow, I knew instinctively when he was close even though I'd never done this before.

As I felt him coming, I closed my eyes and swallowed, squeezing him with my hands. It took a few moments, but he was finally all done, and so was I. I rubbed my lips across him one last time and said a silent goodbye to the object of my lust.

Eric pulled me to his mouth and kissed me deeply as he put himself back into his pants and zipped and buttoned himself back up.

I broke the kiss and wiped my mouth.

Eric said, "Oh my god," and kissed me again. Then he looked around as if noticing for the first time where we were and said, "We have to go."

It didn't take me long to take his hand and start to head back down the street. I wondered if I could be arrested for what I'd just done. And had anyone seen us?

As we hurried back towards the crowded park, Eric and I just grinned at each other, walking briskly hand in hand. Oddly, I didn't feel the need to say a word. I was just so incredibly happy.

As we passed the stanchions and entered the mob again, Eric dropped my hand and as we walked, he turned to me to say, "I have to get back. Where are you going?"

I looked around and couldn't think for the life of me where I needed to go. For one surreal moment, I wasn't sure where I was, what time it was, what day it was.

Then the heat hit me and I remembered. "Where's the exit?" I asked.

Eric pointed to my right and I nodded. We stopped for a second and just looked at each other very seriously. People were bumping against us as they passed by. I wanted to kiss Eric goodbye but it felt wrong to do it here among all the people.

I just said, "Bye," and turned and headed to my right. I took a few steps and suddenly missed him desperately. I looked back and watched his blond head heading away from me as he was swallowed by the crowd.

My eyes teared unexpectedly as I turned away and tried to get my bearings. Suddenly, the heat was unbearable and I felt overwhelmingly sad. No one seemed to notice as I cried; everyone was in amusement park mode. But every step I took took me further away from Eric and away from the woman I'd been for a brief moment with him.

I wasn't sure what to make of what had transpired between us, but I knew that I would never be the same. This day was a day for breaking records and it seemed for changing lives. I left the park a different woman and wondered how I would ever be able to go back to being the same again. Eric had changed me for better or for worse. He would always be the man who made me feel like a woman—a real woman, for the first time in my life, and for that I would never forget him.

**A/N: I am very much aware that this story depicts an unsafe sexual practice. This is fiction—a fantasy, and I do not condone this behavior for humans.**

**P.S. This is now no longer a one-shot, so please read on ... :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, so for those of you who are familiar with my stories, you're probably not terribly surprised to see that I'm continuing this. I always think I'm writing a one-shot and then that handsome hunk of a Viking whispers in my ear, and well, the next thing you know, there's another chapter. What can I say—I just can't say no to the man. I doubt you could either. ;)**

I was obsessed with Sookie Stackhouse. I had been since the first day I saw her walking down the hallway backstage at Knott's. I stared at her like a hormonal teenager and only after she'd passed me did I realize she'd said hello to me like a civilized human. I had practically drooled.

She was beautiful in that innocent all-American way. Blonde hair and big boobs and an amazing ass. She was every man's fantasy—or at least, she was mine. I made it a point to find out who she was, but very few people knew much about her. Knott's corporate had hired her, so I'd never seen her resume or knew where she came from.

I kept telling myself to stay away from her. The last thing I needed in my life was to get involved with someone. I was so busy with work and needed to keep my focus on that. I had a handful of regular clients—Knott's, Universal, and a couple of cruise lines, but I was hoping to get a Vegas show. That meant more prestige and of course, more money.

I knew myself well enough to know that I wouldn't be able to just have a show fling with someone like Sookie Stackhouse. She was the kind of girl I could get serious about and so I avoided her like the plague.

I wasn't unfriendly exactly, but I limited my contact with her as much as possible, satisfying myself with simply watching her in the dark backstage as she dressed the dancers. When we did have conversations, she seemed very sweet and genuine and I liked her even more. That made me more determined not to fall for her.

She always seemed happy to do even the most menial tasks with such a sweet attitude and all the cast and crew clearly adored her. I loved listening to her Southern accent and found myself always aware of where she was backstage.

Most of the male dancers were gay, of course, but the guys in the band were straight, and I knew Sookie would be a target for them. I was pissed at myself for feeling jealous when I had no intentions of asking her out myself. And then, one night, it occurred to me: what if she's married? I felt a slight panic followed by relief. If she's married, then she's off the table and I can stop obsessing about her, right?

I asked her as soon as I had the opportunity. I found I was happy when she said no. So much for taking her off the table. I continued to wrestle my libido for control, but finally failed on the last night of the show. As was the custom, I'd had a few drinks at the top of the night with the band and then with the cast. I didn't drink often, but that's really no excuse for my behavior.

I was just feeling good—happy that we'd had a great run. I was in the men's dressing room just before the last show when I saw Sookie pass by, going down the hallway. I lost my mind for a second and followed her into the bathroom and kissed her. I'm not sure what I was expecting—nothing, I guess, since it wasn't planned. But what happened between us sure wasn't nothing.

Sookie was so sexy, so passionate—much more so even than she had been in my head for the past month. How could such a sweet girl kiss like that? I lost it and honestly, thought I might just fuck her up against the bathroom sink, but I heard the music cues over the intercom and knew the show was about to start. It took all my self control, but I stopped myself and left her alone. Just to be safe, I left the building. I left the park. I actually missed the final show and the final night at the bar with the cast because I no longer trusted myself to be around Sookie Stackhouse.

I didn't go to the wrap party because of Sookie either. I set up a dinner meeting with Felipe DeCastro so I wouldn't be tempted to go. He was a Vegas show producer that I was very interested in working with and I had been pitching myself to him for months. So, when he asked for my Saturday night, I was happy to say yes for a couple of reasons, and of course, one of them was so I could avoid Sookie.

Lying in bed that night, I wondered who she'd danced with at the party and cursed myself again for my jealousy. I needed to get over her.

For the next few months, I kept very busy with shows. I had a few running at Universal that needed an occasional tweaking but spent most of my time directing two new shows for Princess Cruises.

And then, of course, Spiderman happened. I had been waiting for the green light for that one and fortunately, it worked out to start casting just as I was finishing a cruise show. I was lucky in that some of my favorite singers and dancers were available, so I knew I could do this show right.

I was on top of the world on opening day. The park was packed and the show was already very tight. I gave notes after the first couple of shows, but really, it looked good. I still had a few notes again after the third show, and went down to greet some guests and tell the cast they were needed when I saw her.

At Knott's, she was always in black just like everyone else who worked backstage, and while she always looked beautiful, it was still just black. On this day, she had on a kind of flowery pink silky top and some very short tan shorts. I saw her from behind and thought, well good luck staying away from her now, Northman. I simply couldn't. When she turned to the side, I spotted her phone in her front pocket and began to devise my plan.

All I could think of watching her legs and her ass in those shorts was, I've got to get her alone. The memory of sink day at Knott's kept flashing through my brain and I wanted more of that. But, of course, there was nothing but thousands and thousands of people at Universal and nowhere for a little privacy to kiss a girl in shorts.

Then, I remembered some of the dancers telling me about a spot behind the Terminator ride where they went to get high. Of course, they weren't supposed to be smoking pot at work, but I wasn't too shocked that they did. They knew better at Knott's because Knott's drug tested everybody. But Universal didn't, and suddenly, I was very happy about that because it meant I might have a place to steal a kiss from Sookie, thanks to my misbehaving dancers.

I didn't have much time, but I approached Sookie and hugged her. Her scent brought back the sink episode, adding fuel to my fire. I got her number and asked her to stay for another show and was very pleased when she said yes.

I held my breath for the next show, hoping there wouldn't be any major flubs that would require notes. That would ruin my kissing plan. I watched Sookie from backstage and wondered what had happened to my resolve to stay away from her. Those shorts—that's what happened. I still had no desire to get involved with someone, but I also realized that I hadn't felt this strongly about anyone for a very long time, and maybe I'd regret not investigating it further. How often did someone like Sookie come along? Never, I thought, as I watched her sweet smile while she watched the show.

As soon as the show ended, I made the executive decision that no notes were needed and I left the theater and texted Sookie while she stood outside with the cast and their guests. I watched her reaction to the text and my heart pounded in my chest. She wanted to relive sink day as much as I did, apparently.

She found me and followed me to the Terminator building and we ran down the alley together until I saw the secret pot-smoking spot. I figured it would take security at least a couple of minutes to come and kick us out—at least long enough for a handful of dancers to get high. I wasn't really worried about it. I might be slightly embarrassed to get caught kissing a woman in an off limits area, but it wasn't a crime, and I was the director of the shows here—not just some kid who worked the concession stand.

But, of course, all that changed very quickly when it became evident that this was not just another sink day. I have gone back over that moment so many times in my head—for a number of reasons. One is to be certain that I did nothing to initiate what happened. I certainly never intended to get blown behind the Terminator ride. I had no idea that Sookie was that kind of girl and was completely shocked—in an excellent way, of course, but still—shocked.

Once I realized what was happening, my second shock of the afternoon was how incredible she was at giving head. I had her pegged for a fairly innocent girl, but she blew me like a pro—well, I've never actually been blown by a pro, but I can't imagine anyone being more adept at it than Sookie was. I don't think I'd ever come so fast in my life. I wasn't thrilled by that fact and my male ego hoped she didn't think I always did that, but then the rest of me was just so grateful and impressed and … well, just grateful.

I quickly realized, however, that we could indeed get into a fair amount of trouble for what we'd just done and we high-tailed it out of there. I had to get back to work and Sookie had to leave, and we had an awkward goodbye in the middle of a mass of tourists seeking wholesome fun for the day. What we had done was so completely the opposite of wholesome, which was what also made it so incredibly delicious.

Walking back to the theater, I made the decision that it would be impossible now for me not to pursue Sookie. I had to have her, but not just for the perfect blowjobs that were most certainly in my future. But because I was crazy about her. No, I didn't have room in my life for a woman, but I couldn't imagine not having her in my life after what had transpired between us. It was so incredibly intimate even though it had happened in such a public place.

I was tied to her already—both physically and emotionally, and wanted nothing more than to see her again as soon as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

The night after I went to Universal, I think I was in shock. I kept thinking about what had happened and didn't recognize myself in the scenario. What kind of a nut job gives her very first blow job to an almost-stranger in an amusement park? A trashy one, that's what kind. I was a trashy girl. I was both mortified and slightly thrilled about that.

I was always teased in school for being so straight-laced. I didn't even kiss a boy until I was a senior in high school, and it wasn't until I'd moved to L.A. and met Bill that I'd lost my virginity—much later than all of my girlfriends. I had started to wonder if there was something wrong with me.

Being with Bill was fine up until I caught him cheating on me. At least I was smart enough to end it after that. I'd had a few customers at the restaurant hit on me at work, but really, no one ever seriously asked me out, and it wasn't until I met Eric that I realized just what I was missing.

I was doing pretty well about Eric until that day—_the_ day. After that, I couldn't stop thinking about him. I couldn't stop feeling lustful every time I recalled what had happened, and I wanted more. I felt like I was finally becoming a woman—a sexual woman—and I wanted to do that with Eric.

I began to fantasize that Eric would call me and ask me out on a date. We'd go to dinner or a movie and he'd hold my hand and all night we'd look forward to the kiss at the end of the date, and then maybe there would even be more.

But then, I'd remind myself that Eric was a big deal—the director of the show at Knott's and probably had his pick of beautiful women, and why would he want to be with someone like me? I was quite certain he had noticed my lack of skill behind the Terminator building. I clearly didn't know what I was doing, and I was sure he was with very sophisticated women of the world who knew exactly what they were doing.

Three very long days after _the _day, my phone rang and it was Eric. When I saw the number, my heart leapt in my chest and my mouth went dry. I sat down on my sofa so I wouldn't fall down, as I suddenly no longer trusted my knees.

"Hello?" I tried to sound normal, but probably failed.

"Hi, Sookie. It's Eric."

"Oh, hi! How are you?"

"Fine, and you?"

"I'm good." Now that you've called. "How's the show going?"

"Oh, great. The show's great." He sounded distracted, like he wanted to get to something—maybe he was going to ask me out? "Listen, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind if I asked you something."

Here it is! My hands were shaking. "No, not at all."

"How, exactly, did you get the job at Knott's?"

Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that question. "Oh … um …a customer of mine is an executive there and he got me the job."

"A customer?"

"Yeah."

"And had you ever done wardrobe before?"

"No."

"So, you asked this 'customer' for a job?"

The way he said "customer" sounded like he didn't like the man. "No. He's the one who told me about it. I didn't ask him for anything. I guess he liked the service he got and wanted to show his gratitude."

"Right. I got it."

"I really enjoyed the job. I'm hoping to get more work like that."

"Yeah, I got that too."

He sounded kind of sour and I wasn't sure what to make of it. "Is everything okay, Eric?"

"Yeah … yeah, it's fine. I guess I just misunderstood something."

"What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath and sighed into the phone. "Nothing. I don't mean a thing. Listen, I've got to run. I guess I'll see you around."

"Oh. Okay."

"Bye."

He hung up before I had a chance to say goodbye.

I sat and stared at the phone for a few minutes. What on earth had just happened? "I'll see you around" didn't sound very promising. He seemed … I don't know … disappointed at how I'd gotten the job at Knott's. Had I done something wrong?

I debated about calling him back and asking what was going on, but felt like he was kind of mad. Well, not mad exactly, just kind of resigned about something. About something he misunderstood about my job at Knott's. It made no sense to me, but the bottom line was he wasn't asking me out. There would be no movie date or hand holding or goodnight kissing.

Suddenly, I didn't want to see Eric Northman again because I was humiliated and embarrassed about my behavior at Universal. I must have been out of my mind. Gran always said, "if you act like a whore, you get treated like one," and it seemed she was right. As usual.

My behavior was not leading to any kind of romance. It was just something I wished had never happened. Hopefully, I would not be "seeing Eric around."

I made a vow to behave myself no matter how many handsome, sexy men entered my life. It was a painful lesson, but then I guess it could have been worse. Of course, at that moment, it dawned on me that I'd had unprotected, risky sex with a virtual stranger and my self-loathing became even greater.

I made an appointment with my doctor and cried myself to sleep that night, wishing I'd never met Eric Northman.

**A/N: There are only two weeks left to enter your story in the Home Sweet Home Contest! I hope you're all out there writing your little hearts out. We can't wait to get your entries!**


	4. Chapter 4

I had trouble focusing on the show after Sookie left. My mind was racing—thinking about what had just happened, of course, and also planning when I could see her again. I didn't want her to think I was the kind of guy who expected public blowjobs and then never called.

I wanted a relationship with Sookie and wanted to show her that I knew how to romance a woman when I wanted her. And I definitely wanted Sookie.

I knew my day and night would be pretty packed with back to back shows, but I intended to find time to call her and ask her out. The thought of her feeling insecure about us after what had happened made me feel like I needed to assure her as soon as possible that I had honorable intentions.

I had a few brief notes after the next show, and then everyone went outside to greet the guests. I saw some dancers and singers I'd worked with before, but hadn't hired for Spiderman and I felt a twinge of guilt when they came over to say hello.

I was glad to be pulled away when the wardrobe guy from Knott's came over and started a conversation. I didn't know him very well, but I knew his name was Andre and he worked with Sophie-Anne LeClerq.

After the usual pleasantries, he said, "I hear Sookie Stackhouse was just here."

"Yeah, you just missed her."

"Oh, then I guess there's no point in my asking you to put in a word for me here in the wardrobe department."

"I'm sorry, what?" Did he realize that something had happened between me and Sookie?

"If Sookie was here … well, let's just say I can't compete with her skills." He kind of raised an eyebrow and I started to feel uncomfortable. "You know, the skills she has when she's on her knees."

I wondered if he could hear my heart beating. I wanted to knock his teeth out of his head, but then a part of me was also curious as to why he'd say such a thing. The fact that she had just shown me those particular skills was a fairly enormous coincidence.

"She seems like a nice girl to me," I said innocently.

"Well, of course, she does. That's her angle. The sweet girl. But she's only as sweet as you pay her to be."

"_Pay_ her?" I choked out. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" I wondered if my face was as red as it felt.

"Yeah. Just ask her some time how she got the job at Knott's. One of her johns helped her out. She's very candid about it."

"I don't believe that." But, did I? Suddenly, her behavior behind the Terminator ride made more sense. Did she think I could get her a job here? Had I just been used like a tool?

Andre just shrugged, and at that moment, one of the dancers came over and interrupted us. I excused myself, and Andre handed me his business card and said, "I'm available," before I turned to leave.

I went backstage and found the mens room and splashed cold water on my face. Sookie was a _hooker_? There's no way that could be true. But hadn't I just marveled that she blew me like a pro? Was I really so naïve that I couldn't spot what she was? Was I just blinded by her beauty? And those damned shorts?

Suddenly, I felt like a complete idiot. And here I was planning to ask her on a date. I was pissed. Pissed at myself for not seeing her clearly. Pissed at being duped. Duped by a professional. She didn't _like_ me. She wanted me to get her a job. Or maybe become a paying customer. She was like a drug dealer handing out the first sample for free. What a fool I'd been.

I sat on that news for a few days and vacillated between vowing to never have anything else to do with Sookie and giving her a chance to explain.

I finally caved and called her, hoping Andre was mistaken and there was a reasonable explanation for what he'd told me. A very big part of me was still crazy about her and so hoped Andre was wrong. It made my stomach churn to think of her on her knees, sucking strangers' cocks for money. It was disgusting.

Hearing her voice did funny things to my insides. I pictured her sweet smile and wished I had never run into Andre and could just continue my fantasy of pursuing Sookie. But I caught myself and came right out and asked her how she'd gotten her job at Knott's.

And I'll be damned if Andre wasn't right. She didn't even try to hide it. I thought, well, that's that. She was what she was, but I couldn't move forward with her knowing that. It was just too … awful.

I came to the painful realization that my dream girl was just that—a dream. She wasn't really who I thought she was and I needed to move on. I promised myself I would never call her again and hoped I'd never see her again. It was done. Over.


	5. Chapter 5

Naturally, I was extremely relieved to learn that I hadn't contracted some nasty social disease. As soon as I got a clean bill of health from my doctor, I promised myself I would never put myself in that situation again. Ever.

I moved on. Well, I made myself move on. I didn't really have a choice. I never heard from Eric again and that spoke volumes to me. I'd been used and tossed aside. I didn't blame him entirely though. I did it to myself as well. That actually kind of made it worse.

I spent a lot of time with Pam, and we became even better friends. I was careful to never mention Eric's name to her.

She was such fun to be around and often dragged me to parties and clubs where her friends performed in bands. I was always slightly afraid that I would run into Eric, but promised myself I would just hold my head up high and act like nothing had happened between us. Fortunately, I never saw him.

My boss, Sam, asked me out. I was surprised, but said yes. He was a nice guy and very cute. We'd been on four dates and had done some fairly serious kissing and I liked him a lot. It wasn't like the crazy hormonal lust I'd felt when Eric Northman was in the room, but this was more sensible. More reasonable.

I was pretty sure Sam wanted to go further than just kissing, but he never pressured me, and I'd learned my lesson about controlling myself. Whenever I felt like the kissing might get out of hand, I had stopped it and Sam had left.

I had started to kind of expect a date with Sam when I had a night off and was surprised when Pam called and suggested we go to Las Vegas on my next free night. I'd never been to Las Vegas—I couldn't exactly afford to go on vacations, but it sure did sound like fun.

Pam and I both had a Saturday night off coming up and decided we'd drive to Vegas and just spend one night and drive home on Sunday. When Sam asked me out for that night, I told him my plans and he said he was glad I was going to have some "girl fun," but didn't really sound too convincing.

I didn't blame him, really. Vegas was famous for wild nights. Who would want their new kind-of girlfriend going to Las Vegas with another girl? Little did he know the chances of my misbehaving in Las Vegas were zero. I just wasn't the type to do something so out of character—okay, I guess I was—but that was just that one time. Never again, right?

Pam and I booked a room at Caesar's Palace. I was so excited. I'd never stayed in a fancy hotel before, but Pam said we had to "do it right," and so I went along with the plan.

We checked into our room as soon as we arrived and immediately went downstairs to the casino. We found some video poker machines, ate lunch, went shopping in the huge mall attached to the hotel—there was so much to see and do and I was in absolute heaven.

We decided that night, we'd venture out and see some of the other casinos. Pam forced me to wear one of her outfits since she said the one I brought was "too tame." I figured, what the heck—we're in Vegas! So, I put on her silver sequined halter top and way-too-short-and-tight black skirt and what she called her "fuck me" pumps. I wasn't used to going braless, but I had to admit, the top was really cute in a trashy, slutty kind of way. I even let her do my hair and makeup.

Since Pam was a performer, she was an expert at dramatic makeup. I got black eyeliner and smoky eye shadow and very glossy red lip gloss. She teased my hair and sprayed it so it was huge. Then she did the same for herself and put on a very sexy red, shiny and extremely short dress. She had matching red shoes, of course.

We started walking outside the casino and the sidewalks were full of people—some in casual tourist clothes and some all dolled up like we were. We decided to eat at The Venetian across the street and up a little. It was absolutely gorgeous—even more beautiful than Caesar's Palace, I thought.

We ate dinner in a very packed Italian restaurant (of course) in the big fake St. Mark's Square. Then we meandered a bit, checking out the beautiful stores before we found the ladies room to fix our makeup and hair again, and then we hit the casino. We watched some of the people playing at the tables, but decided we didn't have the nerve to do that just yet. I didn't really know the rules and the thought of doing something wrong was pretty intimidating.

So, we decided to play on the machines some more. I had designated twenty dollars to play with and Pam had forty. I was up to twenty-two after playing at Caesar's and Pam was up to forty-nine.

We were feeling pretty good about our winnings and found the nickel video poker machines. I learned that drinks were free as long as you were gambling, so we ordered pina coladas. Pretty soon, I was up another four dollars and decided I was on a lucky streak and wanted to try a new game.

I'd seen the roulette machines somewhere where we first came into the casino and asked Pam if she wanted to check them out. She was down a few dollars on video poker and said she'd rather stay put.

We both had our phones in our little evening purses draped across one shoulder so pick-pockets couldn't take them, so I told her I was going to wander for a minute and to call me if she couldn't find me when she was ready to move on to another casino.

I left her playing with a very serious face and went exploring a bit on my own, ready to win big and have some fun. I was loving Las Vegas and ready to play.


	6. Chapter 6

Once the Spiderman show was smoothed out, I had some free time and I worked on editing my reel. I was very focused on getting a show in Vegas and wanted DeCastro to see my most recent work.

With a little more flexible schedule, I debated about dating some. I still had no interest in getting into anything serious, but I wasn't a monk and knew I should get out there.

Unfortunately, I was still hung up on Sookie Stackhouse, as ridiculous as that was. I wasn't able to stop thinking about her, and believe me—I tried. The last thing I needed in my life was a hooker with a heart of gold. Beautiful or not, she was off limits. Nothing but trouble. Guaranteed heartache. And possible venereal disease.

Speaking of which, after our encounter at Universal, I'd gone to my doctor to get checked out. I was no expert, of course, but it didn't seem wise to have had unprotected sexual contact with a prostitute. Fortunately, I was fine, but it made me really think about the risks out there and it was a sobering reminder to be careful.

I finally got my reel where I wanted it, and sent it to DeCastro. He called the following day and asked if I could come to Vegas for a few days. This was the break I'd been waiting for and working towards for years. I finally had his attention.

We made arrangements for me to meet him in Las Vegas at The Venetian. They were planning on doing a new show with him and so I was to be their guest. He and I had shows at other casinos lined up for three nights to watch together to get a feel for what he was looking for. It had been awhile since I'd seen the most current work there, and so I very eagerly agreed to go.

A few days before I was to drive to Vegas, I didn't feel well. I had a very odd and vague stomach ache—not really like any kind of stomach ache I'd ever felt. I figured I was fighting some kind of bug, or maybe I'd eaten something not quite right. I took some over the counter stuff, but nothing seemed to help.

I debated briefly whether I should postpone my trip, but seeing DeCastro was just too important. I knew the timing was often critical in producing a new show—if I weren't available to direct it, there was a line of other directors right behind me who were available and eager to take the job. I couldn't risk it.

The day I drove to Las Vegas, I felt increasingly worse all day. I checked into my room and lay down for a couple of hours. I had no appetite and decided to skip dinner. I showered and got dressed, but felt like I might have a fever in addition to the odd stomach pain. I was tempted to call DeCastro and cancel, but figured, I'd come this far; surely, I could get through a couple of hours and then I could come back to the room and go to bed.

Going down in the elevator, I felt a little nauseous and beads of perspiration had formed on my upper lip. I wondered if I had time to find somewhere to buy something to bring my fever down—Tylenol, maybe—so I could get through the evening.

When the doors opened, I emerged onto the main level and the sounds and smells of the casino added to my nausea. I was supposed to meet DeCastro at the front desk, but as soon as I entered the casino, I stopped in my tracks. Sookie Stackhouse was standing in front of me.

I almost didn't recognize her. Her hair was teased up and she had on way too much makeup. She was wearing a skin tight silver top and a very, very short skirt and spike heeled shoes. She was holding a drink in her hand and my first thought was, she looks like a hooker, and then I almost laughed at myself because that's exactly what she was.

It hit me that she was most likely working here and my nausea increased. The thought of her having sex with strange disgusting men literally made me feel sick.

As I approached her, she had a tentative smile on her face. I stopped in front of her, wanting to give her a hug, but instead, I extended my hand.

"Hi, Sookie," I started.

She shook my hand and said, "Eric. How are you?"

"Fine. How are you?"

"I'm good." She was kind of staring at me with a strange expression. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't look so good."

"I'm okay. So, are you working here now?"

"Working here?" She was still staring at me. "Maybe you should sit down."

"No, I'm fine."

I looked down at the drink in her hand. It was something sweet and the smell suddenly overwhelmed me. I turned around to find somewhere to throw up, feeling the inevitable. I spotted a trash can by the escalator and walked over and unceremoniously vomited into it. Fortunately, I had my back to Sookie, but I was very much aware that I wished she hadn't seen that.

I gripped the can and my stomach ache spiked into a very sharp pain. I dropped down onto one knee and thought, shit, if I throw up again, I don't think I can stand up to make it into the trash can. I definitely didn't want to throw up on the floor.

I tried to stand and felt hands on my shoulders. I looked down and saw Sookie's drink sitting on the floor and fought the urge to vomit again. Then the hands were on my face and forehead. I looked up and Sookie looked scared as she felt my face. She fished a tissue from her purse and put it into my hand. I put it over my mouth, and thought, I should be embarrassed for her to see me like this, but I was beyond caring, I felt so bad.

I could sense people around me stopping and looking at me and thought, I just need to get up to my room. But again, I couldn't stand up, the pain was so bad. I thought of DeCastro waiting for me at the front desk and knew I needed to call him to tell him I wasn't going to make it to the show.

Sookie took her phone from her purse and I wondered how she had his number. As soon as I thought it, I realized it didn't make sense and that scared me a little. I asked her, "What are you doing?"

She didn't look up as she started to dial. "Calling nine one one."


	7. Chapter 7

I couldn't find the roulette machines, but I knew they were near where Pam and I entered the casino, so I retraced my steps and went back to the escalator that brought us downstairs after dinner. I stopped and looked around to get my bearings and that's when I saw Eric.

He came around the corner from the elevator banks that only hotel guests could use. He was in a black suit with an open collared light blue shirt and looked like a god. But I also immediately saw that something was wrong—he didn't look quite right.

When he saw me, he gave me a curt smile and extended his hand as he approached me and my heart sank. He wasn't exactly happy to see me. I shook his hand and it felt hot and sweaty. His face was also sweaty, but pale.

We made polite small talk—asked how each other was, and then he turned around and walked over to the escalator and threw up into a trash can. It was alarming, to say the least.

After he threw up, he sank to the floor on his knees and I knew something was very wrong. I went over to him and felt his face and he was burning up with a fever. He was also clutching his stomach and kind of moaning in pain. People were starting to gather around and I heard one woman laugh and say, "Someone's had a little too much fun."

Eric certainly hadn't seemed drunk when he greeted me, but I thought, even if he were, this is something serious. I called 911 and asked for an ambulance and while I was on the phone, a man dressed in a hotel uniform came over and crouched down to us.

"Sir, are you alright?" he asked Eric.

Eric kind of smiled and said, "Uh … no."

I hung up after being assured the ambulance had been dispatched. The hotel guy was talking into a microphone clipped to his collar and almost immediately, two other hotel guys showed up.

One of them was asking people to step back and the first guy was still crouched down with us.

"An ambulance is on its way. Are you a guest here at the hotel?" he asked Eric.

"Yes. My name's Eric Northman. There's something wrong with my stomach."

Hotel guy turned to me and said, "We've got this ma'am. You don't have to stay."

I realized he thought I was just some random woman who was helping Eric. I reached down and held onto the hand that Eric was bracing himself against the floor with. His other one was holding his stomach.

"He's a friend of mine. I'm staying with him," I responded, internally cringing because I knew that Eric most likely didn't consider me to be a friend of his. But telling the hotel guy that we weren't exactly friends but I'd blown Eric once at Universal Studios just wasn't an option.

The three of us sat there on the floor in silence until the EMTs arrived. I was very scared. Eric looked awful. He didn't say anything but every now and then, he would grimace and grunt a little in pain. It was horrible to sit there and feel so helpless.

It wasn't until we were in the ambulance that it occurred to me to call Pam and I was surprised at myself for not thinking of it sooner. I was just so focused on Eric and so worried.

Pam said she would head back to Caesar's to get her car and meet me at the hospital. Eric handed me his phone and asked me to call a guy named Felipe DeCastro and tell him he was sorry he'd missed their appointment but to explain what had happened.

Mr. DeCastro asked who I was and I gave him my phone number and told him I'd call him later and let him know what was going on. He sounded very concerned, naturally.

When we got to the hospital, I was sent to the waiting room while they took Eric into the ER. I waited alone for about twenty minutes until Pam arrived and I filled her in on what had happened.

The room was packed and I was very self-conscious about how we were dressed, but there was nothing to be done about that. My main concern, of course, was for Eric.

I got up occasionally and asked the woman at the little window if there were any news, but it was nearly four hours before a volunteer came over and asked if we were with Eric Northman.

We both stood up and said, "Yes!" at the same time.

"You're the friend who came in with him?" she asked me and I nodded. She looked at Pam and asked, "And you are …?"

"His sister," she lied.

"Oh, I didn't know he had a relative here. You can come back and see him if you'd like."

"Thank you," Pam said. She turned to me and said, "I'll be back."

I gave her a grateful smile and then watched them disappear through the security door.

Within a couple of minutes, I got a text: "He's okay."

I felt instant relief. I waited for about a half an hour before Pam came back through the door, smiling and holding a white plastic bag that said "Personal Belongings" and sat beside me.

"They're going to remove his appendix," she said.

"Really?" It was serious, but didn't seem too awful. "And then he'll be okay?"

"Oh yeah, as good as new. He's going into surgery soon. I have his wallet and watch and phone. He said to thank you for helping him, but that we should go back to the hotel. There's nothing we can do tonight. I told him we'd come back in the morning.

I looked up at the clock on the wall. It was almost 4 a.m. I debated about calling Mr. DeCastro, and decided I'd wait until a more civilized hour. I wondered if Eric had any other friends or family members that should be notified, but decided if he was alert enough to have a conversation with Pam, he had most likely been able to call whomever he needed to.

I gave the volunteer my phone number and asked her to call me if there was any news and she squeezed my hand and promised she would.

It felt amazing to get the makeup off my face and slip into my soft comfy sleep t-shirt after being in that tight outfit and heels for so long. Pam asked for an 8 a.m. wake up call and we both conked out.

I jumped up when the phone rang and picked it up, and then hung it back up when I heard the automated voice. Pam kind of groaned and rolled over. I went to the bathroom, came out and turned on a light and when I felt I had good sense, I called the hospital. Eric was in recovery and doing fine.

I asked when he would be in a regular room and could have visitors.

"Oh, we're not admitting him. As soon as he's ready, his sister will pick him up and take him home—or I guess to his hotel, since he doesn't live here."

"His sister?"

"Yes, she was here with him last night. I take it you're a friend of his?"

"Yes. I mean, I'm here with his sister."

Pam sat up and looked at me.

"When do we need to pick him up?" I asked into the phone.

"Oh, he should be ready soon."

"And we just take him back to his hotel? He's not staying in the hospital?"

"No, there's no need. His sister will have to stay with him for a few days, but we can give her her instructions when you get here. Shall I tell him you're on your way?"

"Yeah. Um … yeah, tell him we'll be there soon. Thank you."

I hung up and looked over at Pam. "We need to go pick him up."

"Pick him up? They're not keeping him?"

"Apparently not," I said.

"So, he can just go back to his hotel?"

"Well, yeah, but someone has to stay with him for a few days."

"Stay with him? Shit, I'm not really his sister. I have to be at work tomorrow. Why can't they keep him?" She threw the covers back and sat up, rubbing her face.

"I don't know. What are we gonna do?"

She looked around the room and bit her lower lip. "Let me think a minute. I can call and try to find someone to take my shows tomorrow, but if I have to miss more days than that … shit."

"Wait. You can't miss the shows. That's too big a deal."

She stopped chewing on her lip and took a deep breath before she gave me a saccharine sweet smile and said, "So, how big a deal would it be for you to take some days off? Think your new boyfriend would fire your ass?"

"Oh dear." It looked like I was staying in Las Vegas to take care of Eric Northman. This was not how I'd expected my weekend to go at all.


	8. Chapter 8

When I woke from the anesthesia for the first time, I couldn't open my eyes. All I could manage to do was form the word "pain." I felt like someone had opened my gut, stuck a hand mixer inside set on high and then sewn me back up again.

A woman's voice asked, "On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?"

It felt like a ten to me, but I didn't want her to think I was a pussy, so I said, "Eight."

Then I was out again.

The second time I woke up, the pain was closer to an actual eight and I was able to open my eyes. Sookie's face was smiling down at me, and I thought she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. Actually, she probably was, with or without the pain meds. Her slutty makeup was gone and she was back to the natural Sookie I had fallen so hard for.

But then, I remembered what had happened and what she was and I closed my eyes again and thought, "Why does it have to be you?" Of all the women I knew, she was the last one I wanted to see me like this.

"Why does what have to be me?" I heard her sweet Southern voice ask. Oops. I guess I'd said that out loud.

I tried hard not to think about her so I wouldn't accidentally say I was in love with her or something else equally stupid.

"What did you say?" she asked.

Shit, had I said something else? "Nothing."

"Pam's getting your paperwork together and my instructions on what to do for you. It seems I'm going to stay here and take care of you for a few days while you get better."

"You are?"

"Mmm, hmm."

"What about work?" I didn't want to be there when she went out and did whatever she did. I didn't think I could take it.

"Well, I called Sam and told him what was going on and he agreed to give me some time off."

"Who's Sam?"

"My boss and, well … my kind-of boyfriend."

"Your pimp?"

"Yes, Eric, Sam is my pimp."

"Who has a pimp?" I heard Pam's voice in the room and tried to open my eyes, but couldn't.

"Eric's feeling no pain, it seems," Sookie said.

"No, it's a six now," I explained.

"What?" Sookie asked.

"Never mind." It was really more like a five.

"Do you think you can dress yourself?" Sookie asked. "Should we get the nurse?"

"No, I can do it." I opened my eyes and saw both women looking at me. "Can you help me sit up?"

They helped me and it hurt like hell, but once I was sitting up, I was able to focus better and woke up a little more. Pam handed me my clothes and she and Sookie pulled the little curtain that all hospitals seemed to have and left me some privacy.

We made a stop at a pharmacy on the way to the hotel and Pam took my wallet in to get my prescriptions filled. I lay across the back seat and listened to Sookie on the phone telling Felipe DeCastro we were on our way to the hotel.

"I don't want him to see me like this," I said when she hung up.

"Don't worry, sweetie, he won't."

I loved that she called me sweetie.

When we pulled into the valet section of the hotel, Sookie got out and helped me into a waiting wheelchair. She put my jacket across my lap and pushed me through the lobby. Pam caught up with us pulling a rolling suitcase, and as we reached the elevators, I retrieved my key from my pocket to show security.

We rode the elevator in silence and once we were in my room, I climbed from the wheelchair to the bed and lay on my back. Pam took the wheelchair from the room and Sookie came over and sat beside me on the bed.

"Mr. DeCastro said you could stay as long as you need to and our room and incidentals would be taken care of," she said.

"That was nice of him."

"Did you bring anything comfortable to put on? Some shorts? A t-shirt?"

"I have some sweats and t-shirts in my suitcase by the sofa."

She walked over to the sitting area and returned with my sweatpants and a t-shirt. She helped me sit up and then went into the bathroom while I changed.

When she came back out, she pulled the covers back and helped me get situated comfortably in the bed and hung my suit up in the closet. I was wiped out just from the exertion of changing clothes and closed my eyes.

I'd fallen asleep, apparently, and when I woke again, the pain was back to a higher number. I opened my eyes and Sookie was standing beside the bed with a glass of water and a pill in her hand.

"It's time for your Vicodin," she said. "Are you getting hungry yet?"

I nodded and took the pill from her. I could hear that the TV was on, but the sound was low. After I'd taken the pill, I looked over and saw Pam on the sofa watching TV.

"We're going downstairs to get some lunch. What would you like us to bring you?" Sookie asked.

"Take some money from my wallet," I said. The least I could do was to buy their food.

"I'll try and put as much as I can on the room, but I'll take some cash just in case. Do you think you could eat some soup?"

"Yeah, that sounds good. Whatever, really. I'm not picky."

"Oh, good."

She took the glass back into the bathroom and I closed my eyes for a minute.

"Is the pain better?" I heard Sookie ask.

I opened my eyes and she was sitting beside me. She looked so beautiful and I wished I'd never seen her in all that makeup with her hair teased out the night before. I loved how she didn't need any makeup to look good.

"You look so much prettier," I told her.

"Yeah, I would imagine everything looks a little prettier right about now," I heard Pam say from across the room.

"We'll be downstairs, Eric," Sookie said. "Your phone's beside the bed. Call me if you think of anything you need or want, okay?"

I nodded.

"We'll be back soon."

I wished she'd call me sweetie again.

Now that the pain was better, I realized this wasn't going to be so bad after all. I would get to spend some alone time with Sookie. Maybe for a few days, the rest of the world would go away and we could forget what reality was and just enjoy each other. Sure, I was flat on my back and pretty much a helpless wreck, but there was no reason I couldn't enjoy the attentions of the most beautiful woman in the world. At least for a little while.


	9. Chapter 9

I'd never taken care of a post-operative patient before, but fortunately, I had a little brochure from the hospital to tell me what to do.

The first day was pretty easy and I wasn't too worried because Pam was with me. I made sure Eric was comfortable and took his medications on time and I brought him food. He was pretty loopy from the pain meds, which was a good thing I guess, because the alternative would have been that he was in pain.

He was nothing like when he first came out of the anesthesia though. He told me he was in love with me and asked if I had a pimp. I didn't even want to know what that was about.

Just before dinner, Pam took off. I didn't want her driving alone late at night, but I sure hated to see her go. I was left alone with Eric, and while he seemed to be doing fine, I was a little nervous about having all the responsibility left to me. I had the number of his surgeon in case I had any problems, but still, I felt the pressure.

I ordered room service for us for dinner and we ate on the bed together. After dinner, Eric took a pain pill and I watched a movie on the sofa. When it was over, I was flipping around, looking for something else to watch when I heard Eric say, "You don't have to stay over there. We can watch it here."

"I didn't know you were awake," I said.

"Come over here and watch."

I turned off the TV I'd been watching and climbed onto the bed and turned Eric's TV on. I started looking for something to watch again and turned to Eric and asked, "What do you feel like watching?"

He was looking at me, not at the TV and said, "Thank you for doing this, Sookie."

"You're welcome."

I set the remote down and said, "I should take a look at your incisions." I turned on the bedside light and he raised his t-shirt and lowered his pants a little. He'd had laparoscopic surgery and so only had three tiny incisions—one was in his belly button. He was lucky because this kind of surgery had a much easier recovery than the one where they had to make one big incision. If we'd waited any longer to get him to the hospital, his appendix could have burst and then the laparoscopic surgery wouldn't have been an option.

"I guess they look okay," I said.

I turned out the light and got up to get my sleep shirt and toothbrush. I went into the bathroom to get ready for bed, and when I came out, Eric needed to use the bathroom as well. I helped him get up, but he could do everything else on his own, thank goodness.

I found an extra pillow and blanket in the closet and got comfortable on the sofa, but when Eric came out he said, "Sookie, don't sleep there. Just stay over here with me."

"I don't want to disturb you," I said.

"You won't. I want you here."

I put the blanket and pillow back and got under the covers beside Eric. It was a king sized bed, so I wasn't worried that I might roll over and hurt him.

He picked up the remote and found a news program that we watched for awhile. I was getting sleepy, but stayed awake until it was time for his pill again.

Once he'd taken it, I got my phone out of my purse.

"Who are you calling?" he asked.

"No one. I'm trying to figure out how to set the alarm. You'll need another pill in four hours."

"Oh, there's no need for that. I'll wake you up. Maybe I can go longer."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I promise I'll wake you."

"Okay, then I might just go to sleep. You can watch TV though if you want."

I put my phone back into my purse and set it back on the nightstand before turning on my side, facing away from Eric. He continued the show he'd been watching, but I did notice he'd turned down the volume. It had been a long day for me on very little sleep, so I was out like a light in no time at all.

When I woke up, I was on my back and Eric was gripping my hand. I looked over at the clock.

"I think it's time," Eric whispered.

It was twenty minutes too early. "It's not time yet. Twenty more minutes."

"Shit, really?"

"Does it hurt?"

"Like a motherfucker."

I turned to face him and lay my head close to Eric's and held his hand with both of mine. He was on his back, facing the ceiling. I couldn't make out his expression, but I could sense the tension in his body and his hand.

"What can I do?" I asked.

"I don't know. Tell me a story."

"Okay, … um … "

"Tell me where you grew up."

"That's easy." I started when I was born in Bon Temps and by the time I got to when my parents died, it was time for the pill. I had been watching the clock and then Eric's jaw clench while I spoke and was relieved when I was finally able to give him what he really needed.

As he relaxed back into sleep, I stroked his hair and continued my story until I was certain he was out again. Then I settled back under the covers and took his hand in mine and quickly found sleep again myself.

**A/N: There's only one week left to enter your stories in The Home Sweet Home Contest! Just do an author search for HomeSweetHome to see the profile. Post your story and then let us know it's up, and wham, we're making beautiful music together. Can't wait to hear from you!**


	10. Chapter 10

The day after my surgery was actually worse than the first day. That first night had been tough when I woke and it was too early for my pain pill. Sookie told me a story to help pass the time and I was never so grateful to have her with me. She held my hand and helped me through the worst part until I could get the relief I needed. I wished I could take her in my arms and hold her, but lying on my back was the only way I could get even close to comfortable.

The following morning, I was awake and watching her sleep when it was finally time for another pill. Watching her breathe was almost as good as listening to her voice. When she opened her eyes and saw the clock, she jumped up to get me a fresh glass of water. Once I had the pill, I went back to sleep.

That whole day was just a blur of needing the pill and then getting the pill, broken up by meals and bathroom breaks and a few minutes on the sofa while the maid changed the bed. It was quite miserable and I felt badly for Sookie to have to endure such a day with me. I did convince her to spend a little time out by the pool on her own and was happy selfishly to get to see her in a bikini before she left, which worked as its own little pain reliever.

As we were falling asleep that night, I took her hand and said into the dark, "Thank you for not working while you take care of me." I couldn't bear the thought of sharing her with her customers.

"It's no problem, Eric. I don't mind. I can make up for it when I get home."

I tried to block the image of her doing double duty fucking some nasty old men and it made me sick. "I don't like to think about that."

"Why not? It'll be fine."

"I'm just so jealous. I'm sorry. It just makes me sick."

There was a long silence. "I didn't think it would bother you."

"Well, it does."

There was another beat of silence. "What was I supposed to do, Eric? You didn't ask me out. Did you expect me to just sit at home and hope you called?"

She pulled her hand away and got up and went into the bathroom.

When she came back, she got under the covers and turned away from me. I reached over and stroked her back over her t-shirt and said, "I'm sorry. Let's not talk about that, okay?"

"Okay."

"Come here."

She turned to me and very carefully, scooted up against my body and put her hand on my bicep. I turned my head to her and she lightly kissed me on the lips.

"That's better," I whispered, and soon we were both fast asleep.

When the pain woke me a few hours later, I took her hand from my arm and squeezed it.

"It's not time, sweetie," she whispered.

"How long?" It was pretty bad.

"Half an hour. Twenty seven minutes."

"Fuck."

"Okay, so where were we?" She sat up a little and put her hand on my face. ""Back in Bon Temps—where were we?"

"Gran was taking care of you."

"Yes, that's right. Gran was taking care of me and Jason."

I gritted my teeth and she continued her story. Her voice was soothing, but the pain was bad. I opened my eyes and watched her in the dark and interrupted her, saying, "Kiss me again."

She complied with a soft, chaste kiss.

"That's better," I whispered and she kissed me again.

"Does this help?" she asked and I pulled her to me again.

"Yes."

This time, she deepened the kiss and it felt so good, I forgot the pain for a brief moment. She continued the kisses—very slowly and sensually, her tongue lazily stroking my lips and tongue. My hand found her breast over her t-shirt and I began to caress her.

"Is this okay?" I asked into her mouth.

Her response was a moan and she placed a hand over mine, pressing me against her. My hand squeezed her tighter. Her nipple was hard and her mouth was so soft and wet. I was lost in the languid, lazy intimacy-slow and easy because we knew it couldn't go anywhere.

When she broke the kiss, she looked past my face at the clock and said, "It's time," and for a second, I didn't understand what she meant. But then, the pain reminded me and I was happy to take the pill from her.

As I fell back into sleep, her finger traced my lips until there was nothing.


	11. Chapter 11

I knew I was in trouble when the kissing started. Up to that point, I had been so good about keeping my hands off of Eric even though there were many times I wanted to jump on him. But I knew I couldn't. He was recovering from surgery, lying there helpless. It would be like shooting fish in a barrel.

Plus, there was always the nagging reminder in the back of my head that Eric had chosen not to ask me out when he'd had the opportunity. I was dating Sam now, I kept telling myself. Sam asked me out. Eric didn't.

And yet, when Eric asked for a kiss in the dark, what could I do? I doubt if there is a woman on the planet who could have said no to that request.

The kiss was nothing like the passionate moment at the bathroom sink at Knott's or the stolen naughtiness that I was trying to forget ever happened at Universal. It was sweet. It was romantic. It was intimate.

I knew nothing sexual would happen, so there was no pressure at all. It was just kissing. Oh, okay, and a little boob-squeezing, but really, that was it.

And then, he got his pain pill and I watched him fall back to sleep. Selfishly, I was enjoying his dependence on me. It felt good to be needed even if it was just to administer pain relief. No matter what had transpired before between me and Eric, I felt something …I don't know …something _real_ for him now. Maybe the circumstances of our new intimacy were manufactured, but I knew my feelings were genuine.

And I also knew I felt nothing like this for Sam.

Eric had told me he was jealous of my dating Sam. He said it made him sick even. At first I was mad that Eric told me that—he never asked me out and Sam did. What was I supposed to do? But then a part of me was kind of glad to hear Eric was jealous. I was flattered because that meant he had feelings for me which I hadn't expected.

I reached over and took his hand and fell asleep to the comforting sound of his steady breathing.

The following day was more of the same. Poor Eric slept a lot of the time—when his meds were working. But I knew things would change that night because that's when we'd change from Vicodin to Tylenol, and I suspected that might be a tough transition.

During the afternoon, I spent some time by the pool and called Sam to let him know I'd need some more time off—I wasn't sure how much. I wanted to tell him I couldn't go out with him again, but knew that should be done in person.

Even if I never saw Eric again after this strange time together, I still couldn't go back to dating Sam. It just wouldn't feel right. Sam was a great guy and stringing him along knowing how I felt about Eric would be wrong. But that conversation would have to wait.

When I got back to the room, Eric was sleeping on his side in the center of the bed. I climbed up onto the bed and lay down facing him, and he opened his eyes.

"How was the pool?" he asked.

"Great. It's a beautiful day. You're on your side."

"Yeah, I was getting so tired of being on my back, and this isn't bad on this side. I can't do the other one though."

"That's good though. I'd say that means progress."

"I'm so sick of this though. And I can only imagine how sick of it you must be."

"No, not at all, Eric. I don't mind, really." He looked discouraged, frustrated. "You know, you can take a shower today. Do you feel up to that?"

"Yeah. Actually, that would feel great."

I helped him sit up and he pulled his clothes off down to his boxers and went into the bathroom. I put his clothes into the little laundry section of his suitcase and found some clean boxers and another t-shirt, but there weren't any more sweatpants.

I heard the water come on and then Eric called my name.

I went to him, dropping the clothes on the bed on the way and opened the bathroom door. Eric was sitting on the edge of the tub naked with a guilty little smile on his face.

"I'm a little dizzy," he said.

"Do you want to go back to bed?"

"No. Would you mind helping me—just to make sure I don't fall over and crack my head open or something?"

"Sure. No problem."

Fortunately, I was still in my bathing suit, so I just opened the shower door and held my hand out to help Eric inside. I was very careful not to look down as he stood, but it was very hard. He was very naked.

Once we were in the shower, I just kind of held onto his elbow or just above his waist while he washed his hair and then soaped himself up. When his head was back under the spray of the water and his eyes were closed, I stole a peek in a southward direction. Who could blame a girl? He was perfect.

When I looked back up, he was grinning at me.

I'm sure I turned all shades of red, but hopefully saved the moment when I said, "Your incisions look fine," like a good little nurse-like one who wasn't getting her own jollies by ogling her helpless patient.

"Thanks for checking," he said very seriously.

When he was all done, I turned the water off and helped him out of the shower stall. He sat on the tub again while I got him a towel and then one for myself. Once I was dry except for the bathing suit, of course, I hung my towel on the hook beside the shower and went to take Eric's towel from him. He handed me the towel, but then took my hand and pulled me towards him.

My heart raced and I hoped he didn't notice my breathing speeding up a bit as I stood a little too close to a very beautiful and very naked Eric. His attentions were no longer on bathing himself, but just on me. He looked up into my eyes and said, "Thank you," and then kissed me just below my bathing suit top and above my stomach and then nuzzled between my breasts.

I was feeling a little dizzy myself and dropped the towel so I could reach over and steady myself on the sink counter just beside us. I pressed his head into me with my other hand and threaded my fingers through his wet hair, watching him with fascination.

He looked up at me with half-closed eyes and a sweet smile and I said, "We need to get you back into bed."

I helped him stand and walked him to the bed where he sat down and started to put his boxers and t-shirt on.

"I couldn't find any more comfortable pants for you," I said.

"Yeah, I only brought the one pair."

"I'm pretty much out of clean clothes myself. Fortunately, I packed too much for a weekend, but well, it's not really enough for this …for …how long we might be here."

"Oh, yeah, I hadn't even thought of that. Just take my wallet—actually, take my ATM card and get some more cash and get whatever you need. And some more pants for me, and maybe another t-shirt."

"You don't have to do that."

"Don't be silly. It's nothing. It's the least I could do. Or, you could just wear that bikini all day every day," he added with a smirk.

"I'll find something downstairs," I said, blushing like a school girl.

I dressed quickly in the bathroom and headed downstairs to shop for us.

There were so many funny t-shirts with silly Vegas slogans on them: What happens in Vegas doesn't always stay in Vegas. My husband went to Las Vegas and all I got was this lousy t-shirt and herpes. Welcome to the casino-the bar's up front and poker in the rear. Well … there were a lot of them.

I settled on matching and much classier versions just with The Venetian on them for both of us. I also got Eric some sweatpants and I got myself several pairs of panties, not knowing exactly how many more days I'd be here.

Then, I picked up our dinner and went upstairs to Eric.

I got us set up to eat on the bed and showed him his new t-shirt.

"That's a good one," he said as he started eating. "I have to admit, I was a little worried I might get something I couldn't wear in public."

I started giggling, thinking of the naughty ones I'd seen. "There were some very funny ones, but I can't repeat what they said." I was probably several shades of red thinking of the one that mentioned poker in the rear.

Eric laughed at first, but then stopped eating and looked at me a little more seriously. I wondered if I had something between my teeth.

"What is it?" I asked.

He kind of shook his head. "You. You're just so … I don't know. I can't figure you out. Sometimes you seem so innocent, so naïve—and then, well, I remember … well, that you're not."

I was instantly mortified, thinking, of course, about what had happened behind the Terminator ride and I looked down at my plate, suddenly no longer hungry. There was an awkward silence.

I finally said, "I know, and I'm sorry about that." I'd been trying to forget it ever since it had happened.

"You are?" he asked, and stopped eating as well.

"Well, yeah. That's really not … like me."

"I know. That's what I thought. You seem so … you know, sweet and …well, innocent, like I said."

"Well, I guess I'm not anymore, am I? But you know what-I can promise you that that will never happen again. I feel really horrible about it. Ashamed."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"God, Sookie, if you're serious … then, that changes everything."

I looked up at him, puzzled. "It does?"

"Yes. I mean, it does for me. I was so crazy about you until …until … I discovered … you know. Believe me, it was a shock to me and the only reason I didn't ask you out."

I looked down again, not sure what to say. I was still so incredibly embarrassed.

He went on, "I guess that probably didn't surprise you though. I would imagine it's kind of universal that most guys can't handle that sort of thing."

I wanted to crawl under the covers. We were talking about the one and only time I'd ever gone down on a man. Most guys can't handle that sort of thing? I thought all guys liked blowjobs.

"You know what, Eric, I have absolutely no idea what guys think. Not a clue."

I felt Eric's eyes on me and wished I could disappear.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Talking about this is obviously making you uncomfortable."

"Yes," I said emphatically.

"I just want you to know it makes me very happy to hear you say it won't happen again."

Good lord, I thought-I will never understand men. I thought they wanted women to suck their penises.

I excused myself and went into the bathroom, wishing I could just walk out the door and go home to L.A.

But of course, I couldn't. When I came out of the bathroom, I tidied up the room while Eric finished eating and then I set our trash outside in the hallway for the cleaning service to pick up.

Eric found a movie on TV and I climbed up onto the bed to watch it with him, still feeling awkward. He reached over and took my hand while we watched TV, and then when it was time for his final pill, I gave it to him.

I was awakened that night with the same squeeze of my hand I had grown accustomed to, and I remembered that he was out of Vicodin. I went into the bathroom and got the Tylenol and a glass of water.

When I returned, Eric was on his side, and so I went around to the other side of the bed and set the glass and pills down on the nightstand before crawling into bed and pressing myself into his back.

"You have seven minutes," I whispered into his ear and carefully, wrapped my arm around him so I could hold his chest.

He squeezed my hand and I started telling him more of the story of how I grew up, and in seven minutes, I got up and gave him the Tylenol.

I got back under the covers and started to gently massage his back.

"Is this okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's good."

I wondered if the pills were doing any good and continued my massage, adding gentle kisses to his neck just above the t-shirt. Amazingly, he was fast asleep within minutes and I stopped the massaging and kissing and just pressed myself up against his back.

I thought about our very uncomfortable conversation earlier and thought, no matter how I feel, what's important is his getting better. We can take a look at everything else once he's all better. This is what matters. I gave him a final kiss on his back and went back to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

After three days, I finally stopped the narcotics and it was both good and bad. The pain was a little worse, but then I was more clear headed and didn't sleep as much. Or feel dizzy every time I tried to get up.

I woke the following morning and remembered the conversation Sookie and I'd had over dinner in which she told me she wasn't going to prostitute herself anymore. I was thrilled and relieved to hear her say that and for the first time since I'd learned of her unusual profession, I felt like we had a chance to really be together.

I could feel her warm body behind me, her soft breath on my neck, her unique scent filling the bed—our bed that we'd shared for the past three nights. I wanted to wake to her every morning, and looked forward to the day when I would be well enough to make love to her when we woke together.

But then I had an image of her fucking some stranger in that silver top and mini-skirt and I felt a wave of nausea. Would I be able to get past what she'd done? Would I ever be able to erase those images from my mind? I was determined to try. She was most certainly worth it.

Since this was the first day my brain wasn't drug-addled, I called Felipe DeCastro. He was very nice and expressed concern about my health.

I thanked him for comping the room and our meals and told him I hoped to be well enough to go back to work in a couple of weeks. I honestly wasn't sure if that were true or not, but I hoped so.

"Well, that's good news, Eric, but I'm afraid I've already engaged Victor Madden for the show at The Venetian," he said.

Fuck. I'd lost the job I'd been chasing for years to another director because of my surgery.

"Oh, I see. Well, I'm sure he'll do a fine job for you, Felipe."

"Yes, I'm sorry it didn't work out this time for us, but maybe there will be another opportunity."

If so, it would most likely be years down the road.

I thanked him again, and hung up in a very grumpy mood.

Sookie had gone downstairs to buy us some magazines and a newspaper. I could read at least without the Vicodin in my system.

I was watching the news when she came back into the room in her new Venetian t-shirt and the same shorts she'd worn at Universal. She looked so incredibly sexy, but of course, I couldn't do anything about it, and that added to my bad mood.

She spread the magazines on the bed and I took one and started to flip through it.

"Is the pain worse?" she asked after a few minutes.

"A little."

"Have I done something wrong?"

"What? No, of course not."

I looked at her, seated at the foot of the bed. God, she was so beautiful.

I explained, "I had some bad news from Felipe. It's just a job I've been trying to get for a very long time—it went to someone else because of this." I gestured to my stomach that was on my last nerve. I was so tired of the pain.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Suddenly, a job didn't seem so important—not with Sookie in the room.

"You know what? It doesn't matter. Come here."

She crawled up to me and very carefully lay beside me, resting her head on my shoulder.

I put the magazine down and put my finger underneath her chin, tilting her face to mine for a kiss.

Her lips were soft and warm, and her breathing quickly grew ragged when our tongues met. I wished so badly that I could make love to her.

When I broke the kiss, she slowly opened her eyes and smiled.

"How are you doing without the Vicodin?" she asked.

"Okay, but now I'm addicted to this," I said and I gave her another kiss.

She returned it with a soft kiss on the tip of my nose before saying, "Well, there's an endless supply of this drug."

I took her hand in mine and brought it to my lips.

"I was thinking maybe today you might feel up to lying by the pool," she said. "You can lie on your back there in a chaise lounge. It's just a question of getting you out there. Do you think you could walk as far as the elevator?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'm not dizzy today."

"We could have lunch poolside. How does that sound?"

"Like I could forget I lost a very important job today. Like heaven with the most beautiful woman in the world."

"I'll get your swim trunks," she said cheerfully as she got up and headed for my suitcase.

It was heavenly being outside by the pool for the afternoon. I was so sick of that hotel room and so sick of feeling like shit. I'd needed a change of scenery in the worst way, and being by a gorgeous swimming pool on a hot sunny day was pretty great. Plus, Sookie was there.

She confessed to me that sunning herself was her secret vice, and I thought, how perfect, because I just happened to live at the beach. I pictured us going for walks along the sand and living together in my condo. I told her where I lived and she just said, "Wow."

"Well, it is an impressive neighborhood, but my condo isn't really anything special. Just a one-bedroom."

"But at the beach."

"Yeah, at the beach."

I was pleased that she seemed happy about where I lived and wondered if she'd also thought what it might be like if we lived together.

But then, I imagined the two of us walking along the beach and awkwardly running into some scumbag she'd slept with, and wondered again, how I'd ever be able to get past what she'd done.

"Have you talked to what's-his-name yet?" I asked. "Sam, is it?"

She looked surprised at the change of topic. "Oh, well, yeah. I told him I was still here and you still needed my help."

"Did you tell him about your decision?"

Her eyes wandered like she was trying to remember something. "Did we talk about that?"

"Yes, of course we did."

"Oh, well, no. I thought I should tell him in person."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"Go with me? No! I can take care of it."

"Okay, but the sooner the better, as far as I'm concerned."

"I'll do it as soon as I get back to L.A., don't worry."

I was able to go downstairs and eat dinner seated at a table like a normal human being, and it felt great. I had to wear my sweatpants though, so we couldn't go anywhere really nice, but still, it felt so good to be out and among the living.

I still needed my Tylenol every four hours, and I walked like I was about a hundred years old, but at least I was walking on my own.

When we got back to the room, I was worn out though and fell asleep watching TV. When I woke up for my midnight Tylenol, Sookie was there with my glass of water and a smile.

Afterwards, I rolled onto my side and she lay in front of me, her head resting on my outstretched arm. We started kissing and for the first time, my body really responded in the way it was supposed to. I knew I shouldn't try to really do anything yet, but I wanted to, and my body was on the same page finally.

We kissed and cuddled for a long time and I did misbehave a bit when I let a hand wander up underneath Sookie's t-shirt. She had such beautiful breasts and to not touch them was a crime.

Her nipple was so perfectly hard and so was I. Every time my thumb stroked her nipple, Sookie gave a little moan into my mouth.

"Does that feel good?" I asked and pulled back to watch her face in the dark.

She moaned a soft, "Yes," and squirmed a little. Her expression was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen.

"I wish I could make love to you," I said.

"It's okay," she said. "There's no rush."

I removed my hand from her breast and rested it on her soft stomach and we just lay there and stared at each other for a long time until I started to get sleepy again.

Sookie reached up and stroked my hair and said, "Go to sleep, sweetie."

I thought, I love it when she calls me that, but was too sleepy to tell her. Then I was out.


	13. Chapter 13

Eric was definitely different without the Vicodin. He was a little grumpier and less mellow, that was for sure. But he was also so much more awake, and that part was good.

We had a great day together in spite of the fact that he was still recuperating. He went to the pool with me and we went out to dinner on our very first real date in public. And then, when we were in bed, the kissing got a lot more serious.

I could tell he was as aroused as I was for the first time since his surgery. It took every ounce of resolve for me not to touch him. My hand was just itching to reach out and grab him, but I used amazing self control, remembering first, that he was still recovering from his surgery, and second, that my lustful behavior had nearly cost me everything with Eric before, and I couldn't risk screwing everything up again.

Eric was touching me and kissing me and when he asked if it felt good, I very nearly pushed his hand down into my panties. I wanted him so badly, but I didn't want him to think I was trashy. I _was_ trashy, of course—I'd certainly proven that with him, but I was determined to behave myself, and I was relieved when he finally fell asleep.

I lay there and thought about the stolen moment at Universal and no matter how ashamed of it I was, there was still a part of me deep down that loved it and wanted more of the same.

I remembered how powerful I felt with him in my mouth and how rewarding it was to know I was pleasing him. It made me sad to think I would have to suppress those impulses whenever I was with Eric in an intimate moment again. Heck, I thought, I was having to suppress them at that very moment with Eric lying beside me.

As much as I loved kissing him and felt sure making love to him would be wonderful, I knew I'd always have to rein my lust in and that sat at the back of my mind and troubled me until I finally fell asleep.

Eric was supposed to see his surgeon for a follow up on Friday, but Thursday morning, he said he was feeling well enough to make the trip to L.A. and eager to get out of the hotel. Even though the circumstances were really bad for Eric, a part of me—okay, a pretty big part—had loved our little love nest here. I knew, though, that we had to get back to the real world and was also excited at the prospect of starting a real relationship with Eric.

Eric called his surgeon's office and they said they could squeeze him in at 11, so we started packing. As soon as he was through with his appointment, we planned to drive back to L.A.

We were dressed and ready to go with our suitcases packed when I did a last sweep of the bathroom to make sure we hadn't left anything. When I came out, Eric stood from the bed and held his arms out to me. I very carefully put my arms around him and he bent down and kissed me on the lips. It was a very sweet kiss, and when he pulled back, he said, "Thank you for taking such good care of me, Sookie."

"You're welcome."

"Even though it sucks that I had to have surgery, at least it gave us some time alone to be together. And now things are working out for us. It's not the most romantic set of circumstances with which to start a relationship, but …." He smiled. "This probably would have never happened if I hadn't needed to have my appendix out."

I thought, well, actually, it could have happened if you had just called and asked me on a date, but I kept it to myself. It didn't matter how it happened, just that it finally did, right?

I pulled both our suitcases downstairs and through the casino to the front desk. It probably looked a little funny, but Eric could barely walk upright, much less pull a suitcase. We checked out at the front desk and Felipe DeCastro was good for his word. We didn't owe a penny.

I drove Eric's car and his GPS led us right to his surgeon's office right on time for his appointment.

I waited in the waiting room and he came out smiling and said, "We're good. Let's go home."

We stopped to eat lunch before getting on the freeway, and then Eric and I were finally on our way back to Los Angeles.

After days of being secluded together, we were very comfortable with each other on the long car ride home. Eric slept some, and when he was awake, he talked at length about his work. I felt really horrible about his losing the job in Las Vegas. It was obvious that he'd wanted it and worked for it for so long, but he took the loss in stride.

I told him that I was still hopeful to get more work doing wardrobe, but it was tough getting started. I had submitted my resume to several film and theater projects, but there was only one job on it. I hadn't had any luck yet.

"It's really admirable, Sookie, that you have ambitions to improve yourself," he said.

I kept my mouth shut, but I never really thought there was anything wrong with waitressing.

"Well, I liked what I saw working at Knott's, but I obviously have a lot to learn," I replied.

We decided to take Eric home first since he couldn't get his suitcase up to his condo alone. Then he thought he'd be able to take me home. If he didn't feel up to it, I figured I could always take the bus.

I parked the car in Eric's underground parking garage and we took the elevator up to the third floor. Eric's place was a mere three blocks from the beach in Santa Monica and on a very fancy street with nothing but beautiful condo and apartment buildings on it.

I wasn't sure what to expect since … well, Eric is a guy and his taste in cars was kind of cliché (a red Corvette—more than slightly macho). But, I was pleasantly surprised by his home. It was simple, but very tastefully decorated. The living room and dining room were furnished with dark wood and neutral fabrics. His sofa was brown leather and the accents were in deep rust and gold. It was very masculine, but still warm and quite lovely.

I rolled his suitcase into the bedroom and he immediately started to make the messy bed.

"Don't, Eric. It's fine. You'll need to get right back into it anyway," I said.

He looked a little guilty, but stopped and sat on the edge of it. He seemed tired.

"I should let you get some rest," I said. "Is there anything you need for me to do for you before I go?"

"No, I think I'm fine. But I don't want you to go."

"I need to get home too, sweetie."

"I know. It's just that I'm going to miss you. I'm so used to having you with me."

I walked over and bent down to give him a kiss. Then he took my hand and kissed it and said, "I'll drive you home."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, especially if you drive yourself there. Then, I just have to drive myself back. It should be fine."

"Okay," I conceded.

I drove us to my apartment in West Hollywood and found a spot on the street in front of my building.

I turned to Eric and said, "You're welcome to come in, but you should probably go home and get some rest."

"I know, I should. I'll be so glad when I'm back to normal. I'm tired of this."

"It won't be long, sweetie," I assured him.

"So, when can I see you? How about tomorrow night? I don't know if I'll be up for going out, but maybe you could just come over to … "

I interrupted him. "I can't tomorrow. I mean, I'll probably have to work."

He got the oddest look on his face, like I'd just told him I planned to bomb the White House. "Work?" he asked, quite incredulous.

"Yeah, work. Remember that? Waiting on tables. Bringing people food. Work."

He seemed relieved. "Oh, right. I forgot you were a waitress too. Where is it again?"

"Merlotte's, just down the street. Well, I'm assuming I'll be working tomorrow. I need to work as much as I can to make up for the time I've been gone and not making a dime."

"Oh, shit, Sookie. What was I thinking? I should pay you for your time."

"No, don't. Really. I was happy to help you. I'm glad I was there and it all worked out. I don't want you to pay me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I'll just try and get as many shifts at the restaurant as I can to make up for it. Really, I don't mind."

"Well, let me know as soon as you have a free night, okay? I want to see you as soon as possible." I nodded and he smiled a sweet smile and added, "I miss you already."

"Me too."

He leaned over and gave me a kiss. When he stopped kissing me, he sat back and said, "When are you going to talk to Sam?"

"I guess tonight. I should probably go and see him in person."

"Are you sure you don't want me there?"

"Yeah. There's no need, really."

"You don't think he'll hurt you, do you? Is he violent?"

"Violent?" I couldn't imagine Sam getting violent over anything, much less a woman telling him she couldn't date him anymore. "No, he's not violent. I'm sure it'll be fine. It's not like he's in love with me or anything."

"Well, just be careful, okay?"

"Okay." Careful? What in the world did he mean by that?

We both got out of the car. I retrieved my suitcase from the back and Eric carefully got into the driver's seat. He rolled the window down and I gave him a last kiss before he drove off.

I went inside and started sorting through my mail and checked my answering machine. I didn't have any calls—most people called my cell phone if they needed me anyway.

I sat on the sofa and set the mail aside, thinking about everything that had happened since I was last home. When I left, I thought I was going for a girls' weekend. Who would have thought I'd see Eric, then have to take care of Eric, and finally, get involved with Eric—all in the short time I'd been gone? It was kind of mind blowing.

I was crazy about Eric. He was so sweet and so sexy and we'd had fun together in spite of the circumstances of his surgery. I knew that I could easily fall in love with him and be very happy with the result.

But there was something nagging me—something in the back of my mind that was not quite right. I couldn't really put my finger on it, but well, actually, I guess I could. It was the whole blowjob thing. I_ liked_ doing that. I knew it was trashy, but if I were being honest with myself, I did enjoy it. Tremendously. I'd told Eric I was sorry—that I was ashamed of myself for doing it, but really, was I? No, not really. I liked it. And he didn't.

And then, he seemed kind of weird about my working at Merlotte's. I guess he didn't like the idea of my being around Sam so much. He did say he was jealous. But still, he was kind of—I don't know, not quite right about it. Kind of cavemanny. Did he not want his woman to work for a living or something? It was odd.

I unpacked my suitcase and called Merlotte's. Sam was there (as always) and said he could put me on the schedule the following night and would try and give me as many nights as I needed. I thanked him and asked if it was a good time to stop by to talk to him about something. He said it was and I could hear the resignation in his voice. We had just talked about work, and what else would we have to discuss except our personal relationship?

I hung up and walked down the block to the restaurant. Sam gave me a hug and welcomed me back and then we went into his office to have the talk.

"What's on your mind, Sookie?" he began.

"I hate to do this here, Sam, but I didn't want to put it off any longer. I don't think we should see each other any more. I mean, to date each other."

"I see. Okay. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Well, I'm sorry to have to say it. You're a wonderful man, Sam. I obviously have strong feelings about you. But they're just not the right kind of feelings. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I think so. I do." He paused for a beat and then asked, "Is there someone else?"

"Kind of." I watched his face, wondering how much I should say. He smiled and seemed okay, so I went on. "It's someone I knew before. I'm not sure what's going to happen there. Maybe not much, to be honest, but I have to find out."

"Okay." He took my hand and squeezed it. "It sounds like you've made up your mind."

"Well, I guess I have. My gut tells me what's between you and me just isn't … you know … serious relationship material. And it seems wrong to continue it knowing that."

"Well, you should always listen to your gut," he said, and then added with a smile, "I hope we can still be friends."

"Oh, of course. Nothing will ever change that, Sam."

We ended the conversation with a hug and a promise that it wouldn't be icky at work between us because of this and I believed him. He really was a lovely man. I just knew he wasn't the one for me.

I walked home feeling good about ending things with Sam and better about moving forward with Eric. Hopefully, together Eric and I could work through the little nagging problems I had in the back of my mind and everything would be okay … more than okay, actually. I hoped they could be great.


	14. Chapter 14

I was grateful to be home and able to sleep in my own bed, finally. I was so wiped out from the trip back to L.A. that I fell asleep without eating dinner and didn't wake until the middle of the night, needing Tylenol, of course. I felt bad that I hadn't called Sookie before going to sleep and I missed her. My bed felt great, but it was awfully empty.

I called her when I woke up the next morning and told her I'd missed her all night. I hated to keep harping on it, but I was anxious for her to tell her pimp that she was quitting the business and ending their warped-and-probably-really-disgusting relationship. I hated to think about it and just wanted it over.

Fortunately, I didn't have to bring it up again because she did.

"I ended things with Sam last night, so now that's over."

"I'm so glad," I said. I hated the thought that she was in the same room with him even, but I kept it to myself. The important thing was that she'd ended it. "So, when can I see you? Do you have to work at the restaurant tonight?"

"Yeah, I do. I'm sorry, Eric, but I need the money. I'm on the schedule for the next three nights, but then I'm off on Monday."

"Okay, then let's plan on going out Monday night. Hopefully, I'll be a lot better and we can have a real date. At least go somewhere nice for dinner. How does that sound?"

"That sounds great."

For the next three days, I was still pretty weak and worthless. I was frustrated that I was taking so long to heal, but from what I'd read, the recovery for my surgery was still much quicker than if I hadn't had the laparoscopic surgery. I was just used to feeling strong and very tired of feeling pain.

But I had a lot to look forward to, and that was a good thing. I didn't dwell on the loss of the Vegas job, but focused on a future with Sookie and was grateful that I still had my regular clients. And that my health crisis was resolvable and not more serious.

Sookie and I talked on the phone every day and sent texts back and forth, but I was really looking forward to seeing her. I knew it was unlikely I could have sex yet—or if I could, I suspected it wouldn't be very good in my condition. At least not for her, and that was what mattered. But just to be able to hold her and kiss her would be great. I missed her so much.

Monday night finally arrived. I was able to find some decent pants that I could wear that didn't bother my incisions, so at least I wasn't in sweatpants for our date.

When Sookie opened her door, she took my breath away in a white dress with red flowers on it.

She gave me a little tour of her apartment. It was small, but at least it did have a bedroom that was separate from the main room plus a small kitchen and bathroom. She had it decorated with colorful quilts and floral patterned fabrics. It was very feminine and pretty, and again, I wondered how in the world this girl ever got mixed up in prostitution. She sure didn't fit the mold.

When the tour was over, she offered me something to drink. I was a little thirsty, and so she went into the kitchen to pour me a glass of water. I followed her in and suddenly was no longer able to keep my hands to myself. As soon as she took the glass from the cabinet and set it on the counter, I kissed her.

She seemed as surprised as I was, but responded with open lips and a curious tongue. I pressed her against the kitchen counter and memories of sink day came back to me, and back to my nether regions as well. Pain or no pain, I pressed into her and she wrapped a leg around mine. I reached beneath the hem of her dress and cupped her ass that was covered in soft silky fabric. She moaned into my mouth and said my name and I wanted to take her into the bedroom and do my best to fuck her whether it hurt or not.

But then I thought, this woman is probably so used to men just fucking her—she deserves to be romanced. I didn't want her to think I only wanted her for sex like all the other men she knew.

So I broke the kiss and removed my hand from her ass and whispered into her hair, "We should go, baby. Let's go and have dinner, okay?"

Her eyes were kind of glazed over and she said, "Okay," before taking a deep breath and exhaling.

"Forget the glass of water; let's just go," I said.

I took her by the hand and we went into the living room.

"Let me just grab my sweater and purse," she said and stepped over to a table by the sofa and picked them up.

"I'm anxious to take you out and spoil you rotten," I said. "You deserve it. From now on, you'll be wined and dined properly."

"Well, I'm looking forward to it," she said with a smile.

She looked so sweet. I put my hand to her face and said, "Oh, sweetie, I just want to make you happy. I promise to never treat you like a whore."

Sookie's smile vanished and her eyes grew immediately vacant. Uh oh.

"Shit, I'm sorry," I said quickly. She looked pissed. "I shouldn't have used that word."

"Um …no, you shouldn't have."

"It won't happen again." She just kept staring daggers at me, and I tried to move past the faux pas as soon as possible by saying, "Let's just go eat, okay, sweetie?"

I took her hand again and pulled her towards the door, but suddenly, her feet wouldn't budge and she dropped her purse and sweater on the coffee table.

"Have a seat, Eric. I think we need to talk about something."

Well, that didn't sound good. But what could I do? I sat down compliantly and she sat beside me, looking very grim.

"Sookie, I'm sorry," I said. "Really, I am. That was rude."

"Yes, it was, Eric. But, you know what, I'm glad you brought it up. This is something that's been bothering me and I think we need to clear the air."

I knew to tread carefully, as when we'd discussed this before, she was always uncomfortable and didn't want to really talk about it. Frankly, neither did I. Of course, it would be a touchy subject between her and her new boyfriend—her past profession as a prostitute.

"I want to talk about it, Sookie, but bear with me, okay? It's a tough subject. Honestly, I would imagine most men would find this difficult to accept in their new love interest."

"Well, I wouldn't know about that. I haven't had much experience in being someone's love interest."

The poor girl—she'd probably only been mistreated by her johns and pimps and never had anything real.

"We're going to work through this, Sookie. I know that in time, I'll be better about accepting it."

"You know what, Eric. Just stop right there."

Well, that didn't sound good.

She went on, "If this is something about me that you have a hard time accepting, then I think we have a problem." She paused as if planning what she wanted to say. I waited. "I have a confession to make."

"Okay." I had no idea where this was going, but I didn't like it.

"I know I said I was ashamed of myself, but you know what? I've been doing some serious thinking about it and now I'm not ashamed of it anymore. I liked it."

I tried not to look shocked, but I definitely was.

She went on, "In fact, if we're really being honest here, I loved it. Now, that might make me a big trashy whore in your eyes, but it's the truth."

"I don't know what to say." Of course it made her a big trashy whore in my eyes. She apparently was a big trashy whore—and one who loved it. I was disgusted.

"And you know what," she continued, "What's going to happen if I want to do it again? And I'm pretty sure I will. What will you think of me then?"

"God, don't say that, Sookie." I couldn't be with her if she went back to being a prostitute.

"Well, it's the truth, Eric. I'm only human. And if you really care about a person, then you should accept them for who they are—flaws and all."

"I don't know if I can accept this particular flaw, Sookie. It's kind of a deal breaker."

She looked sad and reached over and took my hand and said, "Then I guess the deal's broken. Because this is who I really am. At my core. I don't think it would be right for you to ask me to ignore that. And I think it would be wrong for me to suppress my natural impulses. It doesn't feel right."

"God, I can't believe you're saying this." I was stunned.

She sighed and shook her head. "I guess I have a lot to learn, Eric. Honestly, I thought guys liked it."

"I don't."

She just nodded sadly. "I know."

I didn't know what else to say. I was so completely shocked. I looked down at our hands intertwined and felt a lump in my throat. I had such high hopes for us. In spite of her past, I saw a future with Sookie and I realized at that moment that I was in love with her. I was in love with a woman I couldn't be with. Because in spite of my feelings for her, there was just no way I could ever accept her being a prostitute. It would destroy me.

I dropped her hand and stood up and said, "That's it then. I should go."

"I'm so sorry," she said and there were tears in her eyes.

I wanted to kiss her, to comfort her, but knew I shouldn't. So I just said, "Good bye," and walked out the door. Away from the woman I loved but could never have.


	15. Chapter 15

I was incredibly sad that Eric and I broke up before we'd really even gotten started. I was so crazy about him and I was really happy in the brief time we'd spent together in Las Vegas. I missed him so much when we got back to L.A., but then after that awful conversation we had about—of all things-the blowjob I'd given him at Universal, well, it just became out of the question that we could be together.

He even used the phrase "deal breaker," so I wasn't the only one who thought the situation was impossible.

I have to admit, I was baffled by the whole thing. I guess I was as naïve as people had always accused me of being. I never in a million years thought a guy would break up with me because I'd confessed to enjoying sucking his penis. I really had a lot to learn, but frankly, I had no interest in learning any of it. I couldn't imagine ever being interested in dating ever again after what had happened with Eric.

I tried not to wallow in self pity, but I did cry quite a bit over losing Eric, but only when alone. I just thought what horrible luck I'd had, falling for a guy who didn't want me to give him blowjobs. I'd only given the one, and I thought it was pretty great. I wondered if I'd behaved myself that day behind the Terminator ride, maybe he and I would still be together.

Of course, I couldn't tell anyone why I was so sad. I tried not to show it, especially at work, but people noticed that something was wrong. I wished I did have someone I could talk to about it, but it was just such an odd and intimate problem, I couldn't imagine anyone I could confide in about such a thing.

And then, I thought of Pam. If there was anyone on the planet who wouldn't judge me, it was Pam. I hadn't spent much time with her lately because we were both so busy working. We never seemed to have the same nights off and couldn't ever get together.

Finally, one day, she suggested we just have lunch and forget painting the town at night. I thought that was a great idea.

We met at Du-par's at the Farmer's Market one afternoon, and it was so great to see her.

She had lots of news about the singers and dancers I knew from Knott's and I loved hearing about all of them. I missed them terribly. Fortunately, she didn't mention Eric, and I certainly didn't bring him up. I didn't want her to know anything that had happened—or at least I didn't want her to know it had happened with Eric.

When she asked if I was dating anybody, I must have looked sad because she squeezed my hand across the table and asked, "What is it, Sookie? Is it Sam?"

"No. No, Sam and I didn't work out. I actually broke it off after only a few dates."

"Oh, that's too bad. He seemed like a good one. Did you get to boink him?"

"No. And yes, he was a good one. But I met someone else."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up. "Tell me."

"Well, before you get all excited, I should tell you, it didn't last very long either."

She frowned. "What happened?"

"Well, … I'm not sure how to really explain it. It's kind of … um … personal."

"Oh come on, just spit out. I can take it."

"Yeah, I know you can. That's why I wanted to talk to you about it. I don't have anyone else I can tell, really, and I think I need to talk about it."

"Sookie, what is it?" She seemed genuinely concerned.

"Well, I met this guy and I really liked him."

"Yeah, go on."

"There's no really nice way to say this, so I'll just say it." I looked around and lowered my voice. "I went down on him."

"Alright, Sookie," she said with a grin.

I started to laugh at her enthusiasm. "Well, before you go patting me on the back for my brazen impulses, I should tell you he didn't like it."

"What do you mean? That's not possible. Wait … did you bite it or something?"

"No, no, of course not. Even I know not to do that."

We both started giggling, and suddenly, I felt so much better about it all.

"No. He acted like he liked it at the time …," I continued.

"Well, duh."

"But then afterwards, he got all weird about it. It seemed to bother him that _I_ liked it so much. He thought I was trashy. And, well, I was … but …." I lowered my voice again. "Don't guys like that?"

"Well, I always thought so. But maybe he was really super religious or something."

"No, I don't think so."

"Had a mommy complex?"

"No."

"Was just a dweeb?"

I laughed again, thinking of anyone calling Eric a dweeb. He was so not a dweeb. "No, he's not a dweeb."

"Listen, Sookie. As far as I'm concerned, everything is acceptable that happens between two consenting adults in bed."

How about behind amusement park rides, I thought, but kept that remark to myself.

"But obviously, some people have hang ups about sex," she went on. "This guy apparently has some kind of _extremely_ rare problem with getting head. Did he seem to like sex in general?"

"I don't know. That's all we did, and it was just that one time."

"Good lord, he is a dweeb. Honestly, you're better off without him, Sookie. Trust me, there are a million guys out there who would worship you for bestowing such an honor on them."

"Thanks, Pam. I do feel better."

"I'm glad. I'm just sorry some ass-hat made you feel this way. Shame on him. I'm going to put my thinking cap on and come up with some super hot and _normal _guy for you to go out with. And then you'll forget all about dweeb-boy. You'll see."

After that afternoon, I did feel a little better about the whole Eric thing. It didn't feel like such a dark secret anymore.

I still wasn't ready to date anyone, but at least I felt a little better about what had happened and a little less like a freak. I was lucky to have Pam as a friend. And I was lucky to have the other Knott's singers and dancers. And the waitresses at Merlotte's. And, of course, Sam.

Sure, I didn't have a boyfriend, but I had a good life and I finally felt like I could move past the whole awful fiasco with Eric Northman. Finally, I felt like I might be able to get over him.

**A/N: We're in the home stretch here for The Home Sweet Home Contest! The deadline of March 31st is approaching quickly. Thyra10 and I are aware that fanfiction has been fraught with problems lately, so if you're having trouble posting your story, do not despair. Just email us a copy before the deadline and we'll work together to get it posted. You won't be disqualified because of FF fail issues, we promise. Just email us at HomeSweetHomeContest (at) gmail (dot) com. (Hopefully FF won't delete that and you can figure it out.) Or just send me or Thyra10 a private message through our profiles.**


	16. Chapter 16

I went through a pretty severe depression after Sookie and I broke up. I'd lost the Vegas job and had had emergency surgery that set me back physically, but none of that really bothered me until I lost Sookie. Then, all of it bothered me. It all kind of overwhelmed me, actually.

Of course, my body healed from the surgery, but my psyche was in bad shape for a long time. I can't even count the number of times I picked up the phone to call Sookie and tell her I wanted her back, but then, I'd picture her with some gross fat hairy fuck, lying on her back, pretending to like his dick in her and … well, I didn't call her. I just couldn't take it.

I knew I needed to get out of the house—to try to engage other people. I hadn't directed anything new, but still had the shows at Universal to monitor. I couldn't imagine dating anyone, but when one of the dancers invited me to his birthday party, I thought, this will be good for me. I should go. And so I did.

The party was at a loft apartment in West Hollywood, and naturally, I watched the door all night, wondering if Sookie would come. She knew all the dancers from the last show at Knott's, obviously, and many of them were at the party. I saw Pam Ravenscroft come in and I held my breath, but Sookie wasn't with her.

I was hovering over the table of food, trying to look natural when Pam came over to say hello. We made small talk about the Spiderman show, but then, I couldn't stand to not ask about Sookie, and finally, I broke.

"How's Sookie," I asked and my palms started to itch.

"She's good."

"Tell her I said hello, will you?"

"Sure. You paid her for Vegas, didn't you?"

I nearly spit my drink out. Obviously, Pam knew what Sookie was. And did she know what had happened between us? It made sense—they were friends.

"No, I didn't pay her." I tried to sound dignified. It was insulting for her to ask, I thought.

"Shit, really, Eric? You should have. She missed a lot of work staying there to take care of you."

"I offered. She said no." I wasn't one of her johns, I thought.

Pam just nodded and then started to look at me funny—like she had an idea.

"You know, Eric … I was just wondering. Are you seeing anyone?"

"No."

"You should go out with Sookie. You'd make a great couple."

"Uh … no. Are you serious?" Apparently, she didn't know what had happened between me and Sookie, which was a good thing.

"Yes, I'm serious. Think about it. You'd be perfect together. You have the same hair color. You're straight, right?"

"Yes, I'm straight. But I have no interest in dating Sookie Stackhouse."

"Why on earth not? She's beautiful."

"Yes, there's no denying that."

"And she's smart."

"Yes."

"And sweet."

"All true. And a prostitute."

Pam started to cackle. People turned to look at her, she was so loud. Apparently, she didn't know. Maybe Sookie wasn't as candid about it as Andre had said she was.

"A_ prostitute_?" she howled. "Oh my god, that's funny. And I'm a Chinese lumberjack." She kept laughing.

I didn't laugh, thinking it wasn't funny in the least and suddenly, Pam stopped and looked at me and said, "Holy shit, you're not kidding."

I didn't answer. I thought it was obvious that I wasn't kidding.

She grabbed my arm and looked around before lowering her voice and saying, "Listen, you watch what you say about her, _Eric_." She said my name like it was a dirty word. "She's a good friend of mine."

"Then you should know what she is. She's a hooker." I was just angry enough to tell everyone in the room. She was a hooker who broke my heart into a million fucking pieces.

"If you weren't my boss …" she hissed. It was a definite threat.

"Ask her yourself, Pam. She's very open about it."

"Really?" She put a hand on her hip, her other one still gripping my arm. "She told you this?"

"Actually, yes. She confirmed it. Andre was the one who told me initially."

"Come here," she said. She took my drink from me and set it on the table and pulled me across the room and down some stairs and through a bathroom door.

She closed the door behind us and locked it. Then she got in my face. Bring it on, I thought. I knew I was right. I got a little bit of a thrill knowing I would disappoint her a small fraction of how I had been when I'd heard the news.

"You listen to me, Eric Northman. You keep your mouth shut about shit like that, do you hear me? Andre Fuckface is a liar and a skank. He'd sell his mother to get ahead."

"Well, she confirmed it herself."

"Oh, really? Sookie confirmed it?"

"Yes. She told me a regular customer of hers got her the job at Knott's in exchange for her services."

Her mouth was open. I could see the wheels turning. Ah ha, I thought. You didn't know that.

"Yeah, a regular customer at _Merlotte's_. Some big honcho at Knott's who liked the way she kept his iced tea glass full, not sat on his cock, you dimwit."

I wasn't expecting that. At Merlotte's? Where she waitressed?

"Well, she told me herself that Sam was her pimp," I said defiantly. So there, I thought. She'd used that actual word. There was no arguing that.

"Sam?" she said, her face all screwed up. "Sam?" As in Sam Merlotte? Of _Merlotte's _Bar and Grill?" She started to laugh again. I preferred it, actually, to the threatening body language I was getting before. "He's her boss, moron! Her _boss_!"

I started to feel a rumbling in the pit of my stomach. Sam was her boss at Merlotte's?

"Wait!" I said. "Did she ever date him?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean he was her pimp! They went on a couple of dates. She's gorgeous. Who could blame the guy for trying?"

It still didn't make sense. We'd had multiple conversations about her profession. There wasn't any doubt about that. "She admitted it to me, Pam," I pleaded, but realized I was suddenly trying to convince myself

"Okay, Eric. I'm going to do something I never do here. I'm going to break a confidence. And it's only because I love Sookie like a sister and it's either tell you this or punch your lights out."

I waited, my stomach in knots.

"Sookie has only been with one guy. One. Some douchebag named Bill that she met when she first moved here. She was a fucking _virgin_ until then. She's the real deal, Eric. An innocent. I'm not, okay? And, honestly, I don't know anyone else who is. But I do know she is, and she doesn't deserve people like you and Andre Fuckwad calling her a whore in public. So, you need to cut that shit out right now."

I was speechless and suddenly sick to my stomach. Could Pam be right? "That can't be right," I said, stupidly.

"Oh wait, there was one more guy. Some complete dickweed she met who she never even slept with but who she went down on once, and the little prick made her feel like a tramp for doing it. She's still kicking herself for one lousy blowjob."

My mouth fell open. I was that dickweed.

"She's a fucking nun, Eric."

We stood there for a long painful moment while everything she'd said sunk in. I realized in one horrible instant that everything I'd thought about Sookie was wrong. I had judged her and insulted her and called her a whore, for god's sake, and all she'd done was … I couldn't even think it … all she'd done was suck my dick.

Finally, I found my voice and just said, "Jesus."


	17. Chapter 17

It was a busy Friday night at Merlotte's. I was originally supposed to have the night off, which I was happy about because one of the Knott's dancers was having a birthday party. And it was a night Pam had off as well.

I hadn't seen the Knott's gang for so long and missed them. I was a touch worried that I might run into Eric at the party, but I finally felt strong enough to face him. I hoped to spend my October at Knott's again, and I'd have to get used to seeing him there, so I might as well start now, I thought.

But then, at the last minute, one of the girls at work called and was sick, so I told her I'd take her shift.

My section was full and I was running around like a chicken with its head cut off just like we always did when it was packed. I was headed to the kitchen when Sam passed me, scanning my tables like he was looking for something.

"Everything okay, Sam?" I asked, stopping to see what he needed.

"Yeah, I was just checking your tables. There's a guy who wants to sit in your section, but it's full. I was just looking to see if a table would free up soon or if I should send him to the counter."

"Is he a regular of mine?" I asked. "I can take him at the counter."

"I don't think so. I've never seen him in here." He kind of smiled, seemingly amused about something. "Actually, I think he might be one of your suitors judging from the big bunch of roses he's holding."

I scanned my brain, but could think of no one on the planet who would bring me roses at work. Or anywhere else, for that matter.

Suddenly, it hit me: Eric. Would he come here, flowers in hand, to talk to me? I was surprised that my first response was, I hope so. I realized I still missed him so much and deep down wanted to see him again, even though I knew I shouldn't.

"I'll take care of it, Sam. Can you check my order for table four?" I asked.

Sam nodded and went back towards the kitchen. I headed to the hostess station, my hands suddenly shaking.

I rounded the corner and there he was. Sam was right—he was holding a huge bunch of peach colored roses with a big white bow tied around them. He was wearing a royal blue dress shirt and black pants and his eyes blazed when they met mine. He didn't look really happy to see me—more like anxious.

I approached him, smiling, but feeling very nervous.

"Hi, Eric," I started, cheerfully. "Would you like to sit at the counter?" I tried not to look down at the flowers. I assumed they were for me, but couldn't be sure, of course.

"I need to talk to you," he said, ignoring my question.

"Well, I'm pretty busy. Why don't you have a seat and we can talk as soon as I get a minute."

"No, I need to talk to you now."

This felt fairly alarming. I hoped he was alright. "What is it? Are you okay?" I asked.

"No, I'm not okay. I fucked up, Sookie. I made such a huge mistake. I'm here to ask your forgiveness." He held the flowers out to me. I was speechless.

"Um … oh …," was all I managed to get out. Had he had a change of heart? Did we have another chance to be together? My heart raced at the possibility. This felt enormous.

"Can we go somewhere more private?" His voice had an urgency to it.

"I'm working, Eric."

"I have to explain," He looked around as if to determine if what he had to say could be said here and now.

The last thing I wanted was for the whole restaurant to know my personal business, so I took him by the hand and led him back towards the kitchen. We stopped in the little nook between Sam's office and the kitchen. I backed him against the wall for privacy, but there were still people passing back and forth beside us.

I leaned forward and asked quietly, "What is it?" Being so close to him made my heart race.

"I made a mistake. Everything—the reason we broke up—it was all just a stupid mistake."

I so hoped what he was saying was true. I wanted to go back to who we were in Las Vegas and erase the awful stuff that had happened later. My mind raced, trying to imagine how it could have been a mistake. Had he changed his mind about me? Was his "deal breaker" no longer a deal breaker?

"Was it?" I asked hopefully. "Have your feelings changed?" Did he want me back—just as I am?

"Yes. I just found out … god, I was so wrong. I thought you were a prostitute. And now I know you're … "

I cut him off. "A prostitute? Did you say prostitute?" I was trying to think of another word that sounded similar that he could have said, but couldn't come up with a thing.

"Yes, but I know now that it was just a huge misunderstanding … "

"A _prostitute_?" It was sinking in what he was saying. My stomach started to tense up.

"Sookie, I know it was stupid and awful, but now I know it isn't true and we can … "

"Oh my god, Eric. How could you? Why on earth would you think something like that?" I was starting to get really angry. "What is wrong with you?"

"I'm an idiot. I'm sorry. Andre Paul told me … "

"Andre from Knott's? Oh my god." Did the people at Knott's think I was a prostitute? I couldn't even imagine it. I was mortified.

"Yes, Andre from Knott's. At first I didn't believe him, but then you said yourself that a customer got you the job there, and I just assumed … "

I felt like my knees might buckle. The walls were closing in on me. This was a nightmare. I put my face in my hands, trying to regain my composure.

Eric went on, "And you said Sam was your pimp …"

A waitress passed by us at that moment and I dropped my hands and said, "Lower your voice."

He stepped a little closer and the roses pressed into me. "But then tonight, I talked to Pam …"

"Oh my god, you told Pam you thought I was a prostitute?" Who else had he told? And now, could people here hear us? I wanted to crawl under a rock.

"Yes, but thank goodness I did, because now I know it isn't true."

"You needed _Pam_ to tell you I wasn't a prostitute? My god, Eric. How could you ever think that about me?"

"It was just a mix up, Sookie … "

"No. No, Eric, it's more than a mix up. It's an insult. It's disgusting. It's degrading. I can't even think of a word bad enough to call it. I can't believe you'd believe something like that."

"Well, like I said, I didn't at first, but then this was just after the … you know …that day at Universal … "

I closed my eyes, a wave of nausea washing over me. "Oh my god. Please stop."

"It was just bad timing, sweetie."

"Don't call me that." I suddenly wished he would just leave. I needed to get back to my tables and I wanted Eric Northman to get as far away from me as possible.

"I'm sorry. But it's over now. I know the truth. We can be together now."

"_What_?" I was stunned—more stunned, if that were possible. He thought he could just say he was sorry for thinking I was a whore and we'd pick up where we left off? "No, Eric. We can't be together now. Why on earth would I want to be with a man who thought I was a whore?"

In a moment of unfortunate timing, Sam happened to enter the corridor just at that point and apparently heard that last part. He stopped dead in his tracks and asked, "Is everything okay here, Sookie?" He was looking at Eric.

"Yes, Sam, everything's fine. He was just leaving." I had to get back to work. And to get away from Eric.

I took the roses from Eric, saying, "Thank you for the flowers," and then I dumped them upside down into the trash can against the wall beside us. "I think you can find your way out."

Eric looked from the trash can to Sam and back to me. I guess he decided he didn't want to talk about my history as a street walker in front of Sam because he just said, "Okay. Good night, then," and turned and left.

Sam asked, "You okay?" and looked genuinely concerned.

I wasn't okay at all, but didn't have time for that. "I'm fine," I replied, trying to smile and then went back out to my tables.

But I wasn't fine. I was furious. And hurt. And shocked. And then even more furious. I realized I'd been waffling about my feelings for Eric. I'd told myself that it was over, but it really wasn't for me. I'd still had feelings for him and had still hoped he'd come back to me.

And then here he was, roses in hand, with an apology on his lips, and yet suddenly he wasn't what I wanted any more at all. I never thought in a million years I'd wish him completely out of my life, but he'd managed to find a way to really change my heart. I no longer wanted anything to do with Eric Northman. For me, it was finally over. He was finally gone for good. And good riddance.

**A/N: Today is the final day to enter The Home Sweet Home Contest! I hope you all go over to our community (www . fanfiction . net/community/The_Home_Sweet_Home_Contest/87225/99/0/1/ -remove spaces around dots) and enjoy the entries—they are from all over the world and feature many different SVM characters. Thyra10 and I are so proud of them! **

**And now that you've finished your Home Sweet Home fic, whip out your keyboards and start writing a new one featuring Pam! That's right, there's a new contest called The Snarky Sidekick Contest. Your hosts are the lovely sassyvampmama and tracee40, and I'm honored to be a judge on this one. Go here for the details: www . fanfiction . net/u/2814209 -remove spaces around dots. This one's going to be some serious fun!**


	18. Chapter 18

I'd never in my life felt like such a heel. I ran straight to Sookie to try and explain myself, and I seemed to just make it worse. I just needed so badly to apologize, but I hadn't thought about how much it would insult her.

She was livid, of course, and with good reason. And she was right. How could I have ever really thought she was a prostitute? I _knew_ her. I kept thinking it didn't fit, but I should have been certain it wasn't true. I never should have doubted who she really was.

I called her and left messages for days, but she wouldn't take my calls or return them. I sent flowers every day with notes: I'm sorry, forgive me, I miss you. Finally, after nearly a week, I got a text: Stop sending flowers. You're wasting your money.

I called her immediately, but got her voice mail. I just said, "I won't send flowers anymore. Please call me."

No response.

I decided daily flowers actually were kind of a waste of money, so I started donating what I would have spent on the flowers to various charities and asking that they send cards to Sookie telling her I'd donated in her name.

After over week of that, I got a final text: Please leave me alone.

So, I did.

I went back to the life I'd had before Sookie, but couldn't ignore the hole she'd left. After awhile, I stopped berating myself and just accepted that I'd made a mistake. I am human, after all. I did as much as I could to try and fix my mistake, but it wasn't enough. I didn't blame her. And I finally stopped blaming myself.

I assumed Sookie would be working at Knott's again and hoped my presence there wouldn't make her uncomfortable. I'd decided as October approached, I'd call her and tell her that and hopefully clear the air

But, as I pulled into my driveway one afternoon, I realized I wouldn't have to. Maybe she'd had the same idea, because she was sitting on the front steps of my building.

After I parked, I opened the garage door again and walked up the driveway to the front of the building. She didn't stand up, but smiled at me and I felt that old familiar pain. She looked as beautiful as ever in a pink cotton dress and tan sandals.

I smiled and said, "Hi, Sookie."

"Nice t-shirt," was all she said.

I looked down, remembering I was wearing my Venetian t-shirt. "Thanks. You look great." Better than great, actually. She looked stunning.

"Thank you." She started to say something else, but stopped and seemed a little uncomfortable.

"Would you like to come in?" I asked and started towards her. But she glanced up at the door and bit her lip. "Or go for a walk?" I offered. Maybe that would be safer than being in my condo together.

She stood up and said, "Yes, let's go for a walk."

We started heading towards the beach and made small talk about the weather-told each other we'd been "fine" with no real details. I didn't want to get into anything that might make her bolt. She had asked me to leave her alone, I kept reminding myself.

We crossed Ocean Avenue to Palisades Park on the bluff over the beach and found a bench that faced the water. It was a perfectly clear and sunny day and we both looked out and relaxed in silence for a few minutes.

"I came to apologize to you, Eric," she started.

"There's no need. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Well, I did actually. I didn't accept your apology."

I waited, wondering where she was going with this.

"I was so angry at the time, and actually, for a long time afterwards," she said.

I nodded. I could imagine that she was.

"And I didn't really think about how you felt. You came to me and asked for forgiveness, and I didn't want to hear it. I should have at least acknowledged your apology, so I'm sorry."

"That's very sweet of you. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

We went back to watching the ocean. I wondered if she were through, but didn't want her to leave.

"I've also been thinking," she went on.

"Yes?"

"A person would really have to like another person to think what you did and still want to try and have a relationship with her."

"Yes."

She looked at me and said, "Really like her, I mean."

"Love her, actually," I added.

She just looked at me and sadness passed over her face before she nodded in acknowledgement.

"I made a mistake, Sookie. A really, really bad mistake. And I'm sorry."

"You're only human, Eric."

"Yeah." I smiled. That's what I'd told myself many times when I was wrestling with all of this.

"It was a bad mistake, but I forgive you," she said gently. "If you really care about a person, then you should accept them for who they are—flaws and all."

I remembered that that was what she'd told me when we broke up. Only then, she was talking about her own flaws, which were of course, not even real. Only what she'd imagined. "I heard that once. From a very wise woman," I said.

She laughed a little. "I'm not so sure how wise she is. She chased away a guy that apparently loved her."

"I'm right here," I said and her smile faded.

She looked back out to the ocean, apparently not sure what to say, so I changed the subject.

"I spoke to Andre Paul."

She didn't say anything, but kept staring straight ahead.

"I threatened him with a slander suit that hopefully shut him up. And of course, I also threatened him with … um … bodily harm." She probably didn't need to know the details. "And Knott's knows that I won't work for them again unless he's no longer on their payroll."

"Well, that's good."

"I hope you'll be back there for the show."

"I was planning on it," she said.

"And I apologized to Pam. Of course, she told me I was apologizing to the wrong person."

She smiled and nodded.

I wondered if we were all through. If she'd said what she came to say and was done.

"So, will you have dinner with me tonight?" she asked.

I wasn't expecting that and my heart gave a little jump in my chest. "Yes."

"Maybe we could just start from scratch." She looked at me and I wanted so badly to kiss her. "You know, just with dinner." She was looking at my lips.

I leaned down closer, but stopped to let her know it was her decision. I didn't want to push her. She bridged the gap between us and kissed me softly on the lips.

When she pulled back, she took my hand in hers and looked back out at the ocean again, a sweet smile on her face.

I squeezed her hand and watched the ocean as well, so completely content to be with her. I was giddy inside at the thought that we'd have another chance. That I'd have another chance.

"So … " she started, after a bit of silence. "When I said that I liked it and would probably want to do it again, you thought I was talking about selling my body."

I took a deep breath. We did need to talk about this. I never wanted any more misunderstandings. "Yeah."

"But, you do realize now that I was actually talking about … you know … a blowjob."

Of course the way she said it, it suddenly seemed funny. Ludicrous, really. I tried not to smile. "Yeah, I got that now."

"And when you said you didn't like it, you meant you didn't like that I was going to go back to my life of prostitution."

"Right." I bit my lip so I wouldn't laugh.

I glanced over and she was suppressing a smile as well.

I added, "Just to set the record straight, I do actually like … you know … blowjobs."

She dropped my hand and put both of her hands over her face, but I could see she was smiling.

I continued, "I don't mean in general—well, I guess I do, actually. But I do want to make it clear that I liked that particular one—the one in question."

Her shoulders started to shake with laughter.

I pulled her hands from her face and started laughing with her. She just said, "Oh my god," and I took her in my arms and hugged her to me.

We laughed together for a minute and then she squeezed me and the laughter died down. She said, "Oh my god," again and I pulled back and looked at her.

"We're going to have to be a lot better at communicating with each other," I said. "I'll have to be better."

"Well, I can't imagine we could ever be any worse. We have nowhere to go but up."

I touched her face, her beautiful lips. "Thank you for coming here—for giving me another chance."

Her eyes searched my face before she said, "You're welcome."

"I don't ever want to lose you again," I said.

She just smiled and said, "I don't think you will."

Then I kissed her. I held her in my arms and kissed her to show her that I still loved her. I wanted her and only her. I wanted to show her that this was the beginning for us. We had another chance, all thanks to her.

I had made a mess of the best thing in my life and had paid the price, but because Sookie was such a kind hearted person and so giving, she had given me another chance. This time I vowed to myself that I'd do everything in my power to make it right—to make her happy. And for the first time in a very long time, the future for the two of us looked very bright. In fact, it looked perfect. I loved her with all my heart, and now I finally had the chance to show her.


	19. Chapter 19

I was sitting on the balcony in the cool morning air, just getting off the phone when Eric appeared.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked.

"No, not really. It's such a beautiful morning."

I stood and kissed him and he squeezed me tightly before breaking the kiss.

"Who are you calling?" he asked.

"The hotel. I wanted to make sure we get the same room. I told the guy it was our lucky room. He probably thought we won big while we stayed there before."

"Or maybe that we got lucky in it," he said with a smirk.

"Anyway, we got it."

"Good. Now come back inside. I'm cold."

It had been exactly one year since Eric and I had stayed at The Venetian and now we were headed back to Vegas again. Felipe DeCastro had another show he wanted to discuss with Eric. This one was at The Bellagio, and we could have stayed there for free, but we both decided we wanted to go back to The Venetian.

Eric led me back to the bedroom and pulled me onto the bed. He rolled me onto my back and kissed me deeply. I moaned into his mouth and reached down to push his sleep pants down so I could get my hands on what I wanted.

I wrapped my fingers around him and began to move in the way I knew he loved—in the way I loved as well. Eric broke the kiss and buried his face into my neck, lost in the pleasure of what my hand was doing for him. I loved the feeling of power this moment gave me and took my sweet time.

When his breathing became ragged, I stopped and pushed him onto his back. He smiled up at me with sleepy eyes, watching me slowly pull his pants down and toss them aside.

I kissed his foot and then his calf, slowly working my way up his leg, my eyes never leaving his. As I got closer to the holy land, he separated his legs a little more, inviting me to help myself.

I touched him with just a finger at first, tracing his impressive length, and then I followed my finger's path with tiny soft kisses.

Eric sighed above me and I stopped watching his face and focused all my attention on my task at hand.

I began to lick where I had placed my kisses and then wrapped my hand around him, moving it up and down slowly. My tongue swirled around the tip and I opened my mouth to take him in.

And then I stopped.

Eric reached down and touched the top of my head to give me a gentle nudge, but I ignored him and looked up at his face.

"Now wait," I said. "I get confused at this part. You don't _like_ this? Is that right?"

Eric started laughing and threw his head back in frustration. "No, I like it. I like it. Don't stop," he pleaded, grinning.

"Are you sure? It seems there was some confusion about that."

"No, that's all been resolved. I love it. I want it. I need it," he said, laughing.

"Oh, okay," I said and returned to my kissing and licking. But then I stopped again. "Wait, now, this isn't safe, is it? What if I get some nasty social disease?"

"You won't, I promise. I've had all my shots."

"Hmmm," I said, continuing my kisses and moving my hand again. "I don't know … "

"I promise, I'm clean as a whistle," he continued, breathing a little heavily. "The only way I have something is if I got it from my wife."

I stopped again.

"Your _wife_?" I asked, shocked. "You have a _wife_?"

He held up his left hand and showed me his ring.

"Oh, no, no, no, I don't do married men," I said, but my hand had begun moving again and speeding up a little. "I might be a hooker with a heart of gold, but I have standards," I teased.

"My wife won't mind," he said, closing his eyes in ecstasy.

I could see he was ready and frankly, I couldn't take it any more either. So I just said, "Oh, in that case," and put him in my mouth.

He relaxed back onto the bed and put both of his hands on my head, groaning loudly and began pushing his hips up to meet my descending mouth. We quickly found the rhythm we both loved and were lost in the pleasure of what I was doing for him. This was one of my favorite things in the world, and I was happy in the knowledge that he felt the same way.

I could tell he was getting close. Just as I thought we were heading down that special path, he pulled my head a little and I stopped. He was on me, kissing me and pulling at my nightgown until he was able to get it over my head between kisses. Then my panties were yanked down my legs and they disappeared.

He pushed me down onto the bed and devoured me with kisses, his hands hungrily exploring. When his finger slipped inside me, I moaned in pleasure.

He broke the kiss and moved down my body, saying "Ladies first," before licking me with gusto.

This time it was my turn to hold his head as he pleasured me. I mumbled, "But I'm not a lady. I'm a trashy whore."

I felt him laughing and it made me smile. "That's what I've heard," came from below my waist, muffled by … well ... my muff.

I could feel the tingling that indicated I was on my way and said, "Don't stop, baby."

He continued what he was doing and I just relaxed, knowing what was coming—me, actually.

I held him to me and cried out when I came and he pressed his tongue and finger into me just the way I liked it while I rode out my orgasm.

He licked his way up my body until his tongue was in my mouth and I reached down and guided him inside me. We both kind of grunted in pleasure and started to move together.

It took mere seconds for me to hit my second orgasm, and he stopped to watch me. Then he went into serious mode, pounding into me, sucking on my breasts, both of us grunting like beasts. It was pure carnal pleasure.

When I could tell he was getting close, I reached down and grabbed his perfect behind and pulled him to me closer and closer. As he started to come, he threw his head back and moaned loudly. I loved watching his face when he had an orgasm and he was thoughtful to give me a good view of this particular one.

When he was all through, he kind of collapsed on top of me and I held him, stroking his damp back.

He mumbled, "Oh my god," into my neck and I just said, "Mmm, hmm," in agreement. It was a good one.

Once his breathing slowed down some, he raised his head, smiling at me and gave me a soft kiss.

Then he pulled back a little and we just stared at each other for awhile, in complete bliss.

I pushed his hair back and he took my hand and kissed my wedding band, saying, "I love you so much."

"I love you too, sweetie," I replied.

He took a deep breath and said, "I love it when you call me that."

"I know," I answered and he kissed me again before resting his head on the pillow beside me.

We lay like that for a long time, which was what we usually did. I loved that we knew each other so well and that we knew just what we both wanted without having to say a word. It was just one of the many things I loved about being married to Eric.

It hadn't always been that way, of course. In the beginning, we were really about as horrible as you can imagine at knowing each other well. We'd had the most ridiculous misunderstandings possible and the rockiest of starts.

But once we sorted all that out, things between us were as smooth as silk and we never hit another snag.

Maybe the way we started was actually a good thing because it insured that we never took each other for granted. And it made us quicker to forgive each other for even the smallest mistakes and we were much kinder to each other than I would imagine many couples are at first. We were so careful to talk things out since we'd been so bad at it in the beginning.

I suppose it's kind of a universal notion that nobody's perfect, that we all make mistakes, that we're only human. But that only makes us interesting, really. And just because we're not perfect doesn't mean we can't have perfect lives. My life with Eric has certainly proven that, and for that I'll always be grateful.

XXX

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful reviews and for favoriting and putting this story on alert. I'm going to miss these two crazy kids, but it looks like they'll be fine now. **

**I am so proud to say that Thyra10 and I have 14 wonderful entries in The Home Sweet Home Contest! We hope you'll read and review them all and then vote when the poll goes up on April 6****th****. Voting will end at noon Eastern Standard Time on April 13****th**** and we'll announce the winners on April 14****th****. Just do a fanfiction author search for HomeSweetHome to find the contest profile where you can see the entries and vote. Happy reading!**


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